s 


5?      ^ 


AtiEUNIVERS//, 


// 


THE 


DAVID  HUMPHREYS, 


Late  Minister  Plenipotentiary  from  the  United  States  of  America 
to  the  Court  of  Madrid. 


NEW-YORK:    / 

PRINTED  BY  T.  AND  J.  SWORDS, 
NO.  160  PEARL-STREET, 


1804. 


District  of  Massachusetts,  to  wit : 

BE  IT  REMEMBERED,  that  on  the  twenty-first  Day 
of  April,   1804,   and  in  the  twenty-eighth  Year  of  the 
Seal*        Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  GIL 
BERT  and  DEAN,  of  the  said  District,  have  deposited 
in  this  Office  the  Title  of  a  Book,  the  Right  whereof 
they  claim  as  Proprietors,  in  the  Words  following,  to  tvit:  "  The 
Miscellaneous  Works  of  DAVID  HUMPHREYS,  late  Minister  Ple 
nipotentiary  from  the  United  States  of  America  to  the  Court  of 
Madrid." 

In  conformity  to  the  Act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States, 
entitled,  "  An  Act  for  the  Encouragement  of  Learning,  by  secur 
ing  the  Copies  of  Maps,  Charts,  and  Books,  to  the  Authors  and 
Proprietors  of  such  Copies,  during  the  Times  therein  men 
tioned;"  and  also  to  an  Act,  entitled,  "  An  Act,  supplementary 
to  an  Act,  entitled,  An  Act  for  the  Encouragement  of  Learning, 
by  securing  the  Copies  of  Maps,  Charts,  and  Books,  to  the  Aur 
thors  and  Proprietors  of  such  Copies,  during  the  Times  therein 
mentioned ;  and  extending  the  Benefits  thereof  to  the  Arts  of  De 
signing,  Engraving,  and  Etching  Historical  and  other  Prints." 

N.  GOODALE, 
Clerk  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 

A  true  Cojiy  of  Record. 
(Attest)        N.  GOODALE,  Clerk. 


TO    THE 

DUKE  DE  ROCHEFOUCAULT, 

With  the  Address  to  the  Armies  of  America,  and  some  shorter  Productions. 

MY  LORD  DUKE, 

1.  OUR  knowledge  of  the  language  in  which  these  mis 
cellanies  are  written,  your  protection  of  the  fine  arts,  and 
your  civilities  to  the  Author,  induce  him  to  address  this 
collection  to  your  Lordship.  It  is  consistent  with  the 
frankness  of  a  free-born  American  to  say,  that  your  noble 
blood,  and  immense  possessions,  would  be  of  little  consi 
deration  with  the  Republicans,  wThose  Constitutions  of 
Government  you  have  made  familiar  to  your  own  nation, 
by  translating  them  into  French,  if  unsupported  by  your 
personal  merit  and  amiable  accomplishments. 

The  frequency  of  naval  intercourse,  and  the  extension 
of  polite  literature,  seem  greatly  to  approximate  the  distant 
parts  of  the  globe — the  Atlantic  is  no  barrier  for  limiting 
fame.  Your  reputation  has  been  long  since  extensively  and 
advantageously  known  throughout  the  United  States  of 
America.  That  republican  people  cannot  but  admire  so 
excellent  a  private  character,  so  disinterested  a  patriot, 
and  so  able  a  defender  of  the  rights  of  human  nature. 
The  voice  of  undebauched  reason,  which  is  thus  raised 
at  this  vast  distance  from  you,  to  bestow  a  tribute  of  ap 
plause  on  your  virtues,  is  infinitely  different  from  the  venal 
voice  of  flatter}7.  Nor  should  the  conscious  satisfaction 


vi  TO  THE  DUKE  DE  ROCHEFOUCAULT. 

which  results  from  the  review  of  a  life  spent  in  beneficent 
pursuits,  prevent  a  virtuous  man  from  being  also  pleased 
with  the  favourable  opinion  that  is  entertained  of  his  con 
duct  by  such  of  his  fellow-men  as  can  have  no  possible 
sinister  object  to  bias  their  judgments. 

In  presenting  for  your  amusement  the  trifles  which  have 
been  occasionally  composed  at  my  leisure  hours,  I  assume 
nothing  beyond  the  negative  merit  of  not  having  ever 
written  any  thing  unfavourable  to  the  interests  of  freedom, 
humanity,  and  virtue.  With  sentiments  of  the  highest 
consideration  and  respect, 

I  have  the  honour  to  be, 

Your  Grace's  most  obedient, 
And  most  humble  servant, 

D.  HUMPHREYS. 
New-Tor k,  July  4,  1790, 


CONTENTS. 

Ifige. 
INTRODUCTORY  Pieces. 

Address  to  the  Armies  of  the  United  States  1 

A  Poem  on  the  Happiness  of  America  19 

A  Poem  on  the  Future  Glory  of  the  United  States  45 

Remarks  on  the  war  between  the  United  States  and  Tripoli  67 

Thoughts  on  the  Necessity  of  maintaining  a  Navy  77 

A  Poem  on  the  Industry  of  the  United  States  89 

A  Poem  on  the  Love  of  Country  115 

A  Poem  on  the  Death  of  General  Washington  149 

Elegy  on  the  burning  of  Fairfiekl  191 
Elegiac  Stanzas  on  De  Hart 

Epitaph  on  Scammel  195 
Sleighing  Adventures  196 
Burlesque  Epithalamiurn  on  the  real  Marriage  of  a  Coxcomb  and  Co 
quette  202 
Impromptu  an  Ode  210 
Epistle  written  at  Sea  211 
The  Answer  215 
A  Pastoral  from  the  French  222 
Mount-Vernon,  an  Ode  223 
Genius  of  America  225 
The  Monkey,  a  Fable  227 
Prologue  to  the  Widow  of  Malabar,  a  Tragedy  228 
Epilogue  to  the  same  229 
Sonnets  232—238 
Farewell  from  the  Abbe  O'Moore  238 
Life  of  Putnam  241 
Political  Situation  of  the  United  States  in  1789  331 
Dissertation  on  the  Merino  Breed  of  Sheep  343 
Considerations  on  the  Means  of  improving  the  Public  Defence  359 
Proceedings  for  obtaining  an  Act  of  the  Legislature  for  securing  the 
Funds  of  the  Cincinnati,  in  the  State  of  Connecticut  373 

APPENDIX. 

Letter  I.  From  General  Washington  to  Colonel  Humphreys  383 

Letter  II.   From  the  same  to  the  same  385 

Letter  III.  From  the  same  to  the  same  387 

Letter  IV.  From  the  same  to  the  same  390 

Letter  V.  From  the  same  to  the  same  391 
French  Tribute  of  Respect  to  the  Memory  of  General  Washington     393 

American  Tribute  of  Respect  to  Colonel  Humphreys  394 


RECOMMENDATORY  EXTRACTS. 


Extract  from  SNOWDEN'S  Poem  on  the  American  War. 

"  A  ROM  rank  to  rank  the  hero  mov'd  along ; 
Here  gallant  HUMPHREYS  charm'd  the  list'ning  throng; 
Sweetly  he  sung,  amid  the  clang  of  arms, 
His  numbers  smooth,  replete  with  winning  charms  ; 
In  him  there  shone  a  great  and  godlike  mind, 
The  Poet's  wreath  around  the  laurel  twin'd !" 


Extract  from  BARLOW'*  Vision  of  Columbus. 

"  WHILE  Freedom's  cause  his  patriot  bosom  warms, 
In  lore  of  nations  skill'd,  and  brave  in  arms, 
See  HUMPHREYS  glorious  from  the  field  retire, 
Sheathe  the  glad  sword,  and  string  the  sounding  lyre- 
That  lyre,  which  erst,  in  hours  of  dark  despair, 
Rous'd  the  sad  realms  to  urge  th'  unfinished  war : 
O'er  fallen  friends,  with  all  the  strength  of  woe, 
His  heartfelt  sighs  in  moving  numbers  flow. 
His  country's  wrongs,  her  duties,  dangers,  praise, 
Fire  his  full  soul,  and  animate  his  lays. 
Immortal  WASHINGTON  with  joy  shall  own 
So  fond  a  fav'rite,  and  so  great  a  son." 

A 


Extract  from  the  Critical  Review  for  June,  1785. 

"  THE  performance  (i.  e.  the  Address  to  the  Armies  of 
America)  may,  with  some  trifling  exceptions,  be  justly 
styled  a  good  poem,  but  not  a  very  pleasing  one  to  good 
Englishmen." 


Extract  from  the  Monthly  Review  for  May,  1785. 

THE  Reviewers,  after  mentioning  the  indulgence  to 
which  the  Author  of  the  Poem  addressed  to  the  Armies 
of  America  is  entitled,  on  account  of  his  having  written 
it  amidst  the  "  hurly-burly"  of  military  toils,  proceed  to 
observe:  "  Under  every  disadvantage,  however,  we  per 
ceive,  in  his  conceptions,  much  of  the  true  spirit  of  poetry ; 
and  there  is  a  considerable  degree  of  melody  and  harmony 
in  his  versification.  He  is  a  warm  patriot ;  full  of  zeal  for 
the  prosperity  of  the  American  arms ;  and,  consequently, 
to  the  English  reader  some  of  his  expressions  respecting 
the  British  invasion  will  seem  to  have  fallen  from  a  pen 
dipped  in  gall ;  but  we  must  remember  that  he  wrote,  as 
well  as  fought,  in  America,  and  for  America.  He  cele 
brates  the  principal  events  of  the  war,  and  has  many  de 
scriptive  glances  at  the  scenery^  which  cannot  but  afford 
amusement  to  even  his  readers  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic, 
however  they  may  disapprove  the  cause  which  gave  birth 
to  the  Poem." 


Strictures  on  a  Poem  addressed  to  the  American  Armies. 
From  the  Journal  de  Paris,  May  7,  1786. 

"  A  GREAT  many  remarkable  circumstances  render  this 
little  performance  worthy  of  the  public  attention.  It  was 
composed  in  America,  in  1782,  at  the  encampment  of 


STRICTURES,  fcc.  xi 

General  Washington,  when  the  British  still  occupying 
New- York  and  Charleston,  the  great  cause  of  American 
liberty  was  not  then  decided.  The  author  is  an  American 
officer,  writing  in  the  midst  of  the  tumult  of  a  camp,  and 
conciliating  the  occupations  and  duties  of  his  profession, 
with  that  silence  and  meditation  which  every  poetical  com 
position  demands.  The  translator  is  a  French  General 
Officer  (M.  le  M.  de  CHASTELLUX)  in  whom  the  talents  of 
a  great  military  and  literary  character  are  acknowledged  to 
be  blended  in  a  very  extraordinary  degree. 

"  The  object  of  the  work  is  to  animate  the  citizens  of 
America  to  the  defence  of  their  country.  The  march  of 
the  poet  is  easy  and  unaffected ;  his  ideas  are  noble  and  just, 
his  sentiments  amiable;  and  his  translator,  animated  with 
the  same  spirit,  and  endowed  with  the  same  talents,  has 
not  only  transfused  into  our  language  the  beauties  of  the 
original,  but  even  added  new  ones  to  them. 

"  The  translator  himself  announces,  in  his  letter  to  Col. 
HUMPHREYS,  that  he  has  not  piqued  himself  upon  being 
literal,  and  that  he  has  taken  some  liberties  in  his  transla 
tion.  But  he  is  right  in  saying  that  this  liberty  does  not 
go  so  far  as  independence ;  for  that  which  he  adds  is  so  con 
nected  with  the  text  itself,  that  it  may  be  considered  as  a 
developement  of  his  author's  idea ;  and  what  he  retrenches 
(being  commonly  foreign  to  our  idiom  and  phraseology) 
would  not  have  been  preserved  by  the  American  author 
himself,  if,  more  familiarised  with  our  language,  he  had 
been  pleased  to  translate  his  work  into  French.  This  li 
berty  may  be  criticised;  but  we  will  say,  in  justification  of 
the  translator,  that  the  author  is  very  far  from  complaining 
of  it. 

"  This  little  poem  is  scarcely  susceptible  of  extracts: 
we  will  only  cite  the  apostrophe  to  General  WASHINGTON, 
when  he  comes  to  take  command  of  the  American  army. 


"  O  first  of  heroes,  fav'rite  of  the  skies, 
To  what  dread  toils  thy  country  bade  thee  rise ! 
'  Oh  rais'd  by  heav'n  to  save  th'  invaded  state !' 
(So  spake  the  sage  long  since  thy  future  fate) 
'Twas  thine  to  change  the  sweetest  scenes  of  life 
For  public  cares — to  guide  th'  embattled  strife ; 
Unnumber'd  ills  of  ev'ry  kind  to  dare, 
The  winter's  blast,  the  summer's  sultry  air, 
The  lurking  dagger,  and  the  turbid  storms 
Of  wasting  war,  with  death  in  all  his  forms. 
Nor  aught  could  daunt.     Unspeakably  serene, 
Thy  conscious  soul  smil'd  o'er  the  dreadful  scene." 

"  The  recital  of  the  death  of  BROWN,  who  perished  in  an 
ambuscade  of  savages;  of  SCAMMEL,  who  was  assassinated 
by  a  pistol-shot  in  the  reins,  at  the  moment  after  he  had 
surrendered  himself  to  a  detachment  of  English ;  and  that 
of  Col.  LAURENS,  son  to  the  famous  LAURENS,  President 
of  Congress,  will  ever  be  read  with  sympathetic  sorrow. 
The  descriptions  of  the  author  are  full  of  animation,  his 
regrets  of  sensibility ;  end  the  translator  has  not  rested  be 
low  his  model. 

"  The  reader  will,  moreover,  remark,  with  pleasure,  the 
contrast  which  the  author  has  had  the  art  to  introduce,  in  a 
skilful  manner,  between  the  two  very  distinct  parts  of  his 
poem.  In  the  first  he  paints  the  dangers  which  America 
experienced,  and  the  calamities  of  war  which  desolated  her 
for  so  long  a  period.  In  the  last  he  collects  only  delightful 
ideas  and  pictures  of  happiness;  he  unfolds  to  America 
the  auspicious  effects  of  that  liberty  she  had  obtained,  and 
the  felicity  she  is  about  to  enjoy.  He  invites  his  fellow 
citizens,  for  whom  the  task  of  glory  is  hencefordi  accom 
plished,  to  transport  themselves  upon  the  borders  of  the 
lakes,  and  upon  the  fertile  banks  of  the  Belle  Riviere,*  a 
river  most  worthy  of  its  name.  He  represents  to  them  all 
the  beauties  which  nature  hath  lavished  upon  those  happy 

*  The  name  by  which  the  Ohio  is  known  in  French. 


CHASTELLUX'S  INTRODUCTORY  LETTER,      adii 

regions,  as  a  recompense  to  make  them  forget,  on  the  bo 
som  of  rural  felicity,  the  toils  which  they  have  endured  for 
their  country. 

"  In  fine,  he  predicts  the  future  prosperity  of  this  nascent 
empire,  which  rises  upon  a  plan  dictated  by  wisdom,  and 
which  will  for  ever  remain  the  asylum  of  happiness  and 
liberty." 


Translation  of  the  Introductory  Letter  prefixed  by  the  Marquis 
de  CHASTELLUX  to  the  French  Edition  of  this  Poem. 

*'  I  WAS  with  you,  my  dear  Colonel,  when,  after  a  glo 
rious  campaign,  you  composed  in  silence  those  elegant 
verses,  wherein  you  have  displayed  the  whole  extent  of 
your  genius,  in  only  wishing  to  express  your  patriotic  sen 
timents.  You  made  a  mystery  of  the  matter  to  me — and 
your  modesty  has  exposed  you  to  commit  an  unpardonable 
fault  against  the  alliance  that  you  have  so  nobly  celebrated ; 
since  the  European  nation  which  has  had  the  first  fruits  of 
your  poem  is  precisely  the  English:  but  it  is  proper  to 
acknowledge,  on  the  present,  as  well  as  on  many  other 
occasions,  this  nation  has  proved  that  its  enmity  does  not 
extend  to  merit  and  talents.  All  the  public  papers  which 
are  printed  in  London  have  made  your  praises  resound, 
and  those  very  papers  have  first  disclosed  your  secret.  It 
is  true,  I  have  seen  some  of  them,  the  authors  of  which 
appeared  to  be  vexed  that  a  composition  in  which  the  Eng 
lish  are  not  treated  with  ceremony  should  obtain  the  honours 
of  public  readings  and  public  applauses  ;*  and  who  wished 


*  The  Morning  Herald,  and  other  English  papers,  made  mention  of 
the  lecture  of  the  poem  in  question,  made  in  public,  apparently  in  clubs 
or  other  places,  where  people  enter  by  ticket. 


3dv      CHASTELLUX'S  INTRODUCTORY  LETTER. 

to  despoil  you  of  your  most  illustrious  title,  that  of  being 
an  American,  by  making  you  to  be  born  in,  I  know  not 
what  district  of,  England.  However  that  may  be,  it  is 
certain  that  France  had  reason  to  complain.  Of  no  avail 
will  it  be  for  you  to  say  that  your  work  is  written  in  Eng 
lish:  do  you  not  know  how  much  that  language  is  in  vogue 
among  us,  and  how  much  we  are  disposed  to  translate  it? 
I  will  not  disguise  any  thing.  It  has  happened  that  your 
friend,  your  companion  in  arms,  came  to  seize  possession, 
at  your  apartments,  of  a  beautiful  copy  of  your  poem, 
printed  at  London  with  all  the  accuracy  and  magnificence 
which  they  always  bestow  on  every  important  work.  It 
has,  moreover,  fallen  to  his  lot  to  avail  himself  of  your 
absence*  for  making  it  known  to  his  countrymen.  For 
making  it  known!  that  is  saying  too  much;  but  at  least  to 
give  some  idea  to  those  who  are  not  sufficiently  acquainted 
with  the  English  language  to  read  it  with  facility.  I  have 
caused  the  text  to  be  printed  with  the  translation.  This  is 
a  very  generous  proceeding,  with  which,  I  contend,  you 
ought  to  be  mightily  satisfied.  Every  reader  who  may  be 
in  a  condition  to  compare  one  with  the  other,  will  often 
cry  out,  "  He  has  not  known  how  to  render  all  the  energy, 
all  the  beauty  of  the  original ;"  and  that  is  exactly  what  I 
desire.  There  is  not  a  pretty  woman  who  does  not  pardon 
her  painter  for  not  making  her  as  handsome  as  she  really  is, 
whenever  she  is  placed  by  the  side  of  her  portrait ;  then 
not  a  comparison  but  what  proves  to  her  advantage ;  and 
comparison  is  of  all  praises  the  most  flattering,  because  it 
is  the  most  perceptible,  the  most  precise.  My  object  will, 
therefore,  be  entirely  completed,  since  all  the  criticisms 
which  I  shall  merit  will  turn  to  your  glory.  Being  a  trans 
lator  in  prose,  and  a  translator  who  does  not  pique  himself 

*  This  letter  was  addressed  to  Colonel  HUMPHREYS  while  he  was  in 
England. 


CHASTELLUX'S  INTRODUCTORY  LETTER.        xv 

upon  being  literal,  I  should  have  much  to  fear  from  my 
author,  if  that  author  was  not  Col.  HUMPHREYS,  whom  I 
wish  in  every  point  to  make  my  model.  He  loves  liberty 
too  much  to  be  offended  at  what  I  have  taken  on  this  occa 
sion:  this  liberty  shall  not  go  quite  to  independence.  This 
is  all  I  promise  in  assuring  him  that  I  will  always  be  more 
faithful  to  that  friendship  he  has  accorded  me,  than  to  the 
text  of  which  I  took  possession." 

Le  Marquis  de  Chastellux. 


ADDRESS 


TO  THE 


ARMIES 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA. 


PREFACE. 


A  ERHAPS  the  following  little  poem  may  be  considered 
with  the  more  indulgence  by  the  public  after  it  shall  be 
known,  that  it  was  actually  written  at  a  period*  when  the 
army  was  in  the  field,  and  the  author  so  far  engaged  in  the 
duties  of  his  profession,  as  to  have  but  little  leisure  for  sub. 
jects  of  literature  or  amusement.  And  it  will  not  be  necessary 
to  demonstrate  to  those  who  have  the  least  knowledge  of  a 
military  life,  how  unfavourable  such  a  state  is  to  poetical 
contemplation.  This,  it  is  presumed,  may  pertinently  be 
urged  in  excuse  for  the  slighter  errors  and  inaccuracies  of  the 
performance :  and  the  design  must,  in  some  measure,  atone 
for  any  of  a  different  complexion. 

To  inspire  our  countrymen,  now  in  arms,  or  who  may 
hereafter  be  called  into  the  field,  with  perseverance  and  for 
titude,  through  every  species  of  difficulty  and  danger,  to  con 
tinue  their  exertions  for  the  defence  of  their  country,  and  the 
preservation  of  its  liberties,  is  the  object  of  this  address. 

For  this  purpose  it  was  imagined  no  considerations  could 
be  more  effectual  than  the  recollection  of  the  past,  and  the 


*  While  the  American  army  was  encamped  at  Peek's-Kill,  and  the  enemy  occupied  t!i» 
heights  of  New-York  and  Charleston. 


4  PREFACE. 

anticipation  of  the  future.  For  where  is  the  man  to  be 
found,  who,  after  all  that  has  been  done  and  suffered — after 
such  a  profusion  of  blood  and  treasure  has  been  expended, 
and  such  important  advantages  have  been  obtained — would 
basely  relinquish  and  leave  unfinished  the  illustrious  task  of 
rearing  an  empire,  which,  from  its  situation  and  circum 
stances,  must  surpass  all  that  have  ever  existed,  in  magnitude, 
felicity,  and  duration  ? 

Although  the  author  entertains  the  most  sanguine  expecta 
tions  of  the  gratitude  and  liberality  with  which  the  continent 
will  reward  those  who  have  literally  borne  the  heat  and  burden 
of  the  day  of  war,  he  has  not  insisted  on  those  pecuniary  or 
slighter  considerations ;  but  has  attempted  to  turn  the  atten 
tion  to  the  future  grandeur,  happiness  and  glory  of  the  coun 
try  for  which  we  are  now  contending.     The  lands  already 
granted  to  the  army,  first  suggested  the  idea  of  a  military 
settlement  on  the  Ohio,  or  some  of  those  western  regions, 
•whose  beauties  can  never  be  sufficiently  displayed,  much 
less  exaggerated  by  description.     The  mild  temperature  and 
serenity  of  the  air,  the  salubrity  of  the  climate,  the  fertility 
of  the  soil,  the  luxuriance  of  its  products,  the  extent  of  ter 
ritory,  and  the  amazing  inland  navigation  which  those  bound 
less  lakes  and  immeasurable  rivers  will  open,  cannot  fail,  one 
day,  to  render  that  garden  of  the  world  equal  to  the  repre 
sentation  given  of  it  in  the  conclusion  of  the  poem.     The 
possession  of  such  a  country  (rescued  from  the  hand  of  in 
vasion),  in  a  perfect  state  of  freedom  and  security,  will  be  a 
glorious  compensation  for  all  our  toils  and  sufferings,  and  a 
monument  of  the  most  unparalleled  bravery  and  patriotism 


PREFACE,  5 

to  the  remotest  posterity.  Stimulated  with  the  love  of  glory, 
allured  by  these  delightful  prospects,  and  animated  with  the 
pleasing  hope  of  the  speedy  fruition  of  those  rapturous 
scenes,  there  are  thousands  who  have  drawn  the  sword,  with 
a  resolution  never  to  sheathe  it  until  a  happy  period  shall  be 
put  to  the  contest.  For  himself,  the  writer  declares,  that, 
having  already  devoted  whatsoever  talents  and  abilities  nature 
has  conferred  upon  him  to  the  service  of  his  country,  no 
efforts  that  can  be  made  with  his  voice,  his  pen,  or  his  sword, 
shall  ever  be  wanting  to  confirm  its  LIBERTIES  and 

INDEPENDENCE. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  armies  which  are  addressed  designated,  and  the  subject  pro 
posed — Great-Britain  commences  hostility  against  her  Colonies 
^-the  Colonies  arm — contrast  of  the  two  armies — battle  of  Bun- 
ker's-Hill — a  Commander  in  Chief  appointed  to  the  American 
armies — his  character — augmentation  of  the  American  forces— - 
reinforcements  to  those  of  Britain — peculiarly  affecting  circum 
stances  which  attended  the  deaths  of  Brown,  Scammel  and 
Laurens — eulogium  of  the  American  troops — anticipation  that 
their  meritorious  services  and  sufferings  will  be  consigned  to 
immortality — apostrophe  to  Britain  on  the  cruelty  practised 
upon  prisoners,  and  its  effects  in  exciting  such  indignation  in 
the  Americans  as  will  tend  to  the  emancipation  of  their  country 
—view  of  the  successes  of  the  American  arms  at  Trenton, 
Princeton,  Saratoga,  Stony-Point,  in  the  Southern  States,  and 
at  York-Town — tribute  of  gratitude  to  the  French  King  and 
nation — still  the  Americans  are  to  rely  on  their  own  resources 
for  the  establishment  of  independence — apostrophe  to  indepen 
dence — Britain  obliged  to  relinquish  her  ideas  of  conquest — 
dawn  of  peace — invocation  to  peace — address  to  the  armies  on 
the  happiness  to  be  expected  from  it — invitation  for  them  to 
settle  in  the  western  country — its  beauties  and  advantages  de 
scribed — enjoyments  resulting  from  the  friendship  of  those  who 
were  in  arms  together — character  of  Americans  in  different 
ages — improvements  of  every  kind  in  America — prayer  to  the 
Supreme  Being  that  its  felicity  may  become  complete  and  per 
petual. 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  ARMIES 

OF   THE 

UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA. 


Jam  fides,  et  pax,  et  honor,  pudorque 
Priscus,  et  neglecta  redire  virtus 
Audet ;  apparetque  beata  pleno 
Copia  cornu. 

HOR. 


Incipient  magni  procedere  menses. 

VlRG. 


JL  E  martial  bands !  Columbia's  fairest  pride  I 
To  toils  inur'd,  in  dangers  often  try'd — 
Ye  gallant  youths !  whose  breasts  for  glory  burn, 
Each  selfish  aim  and  meaner  passion  spurn  : 
Ve  who,  unmov'd,  in  the  dread  hour  have  stood,  5 

And  smil'd,  undaunted,  in  the  field  of  blood — 
Who  greatly  dar'd,  at  Freedom's  rapt'rous  call, 
With  her  to  triumph,  or  with  her  to  fall- 
Now  brighter  days  in  prospect  swift  ascend ; 
Ye  sons  of  fame,  the  hallow 'd  theme  attend ;  10 

The  past  review ;  the  future  scene  explore, 
And  Heav'n's  high  King  with  grateful  hearts  adore  I 

What  time  proud  Albion,  thund'ring  o'er  the  waves, 
Frown'd  on  her  sons,  and  bade  them  turn  to  slaves — > 
When,  lost  to  honour,  virtue,  glory,  shame,  15 

When  nought  remain 'd  of  Britain  but  the  name — • 
The  parent  state — a  parent  now  no  more — 
Let  loose  the  hirelings  of  despotic  power, 
Urg'd  to  keen  vengeance  their  relentless  ire, 
And  hop'd  submission  from  their  sword  and  firr.  20 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  ARMIES  OF  THE 

As  when  dark  clouds,  from  Andes'  tow'ring  head, 
Roll  down  the  skies,  and  round  th'  horizon  spread, 
With  thunders  fraught,  the  black'ning  tempest  sails, 
And  bursts  tremend'ous  o'er  Peruvian  vales: 
So  broke  the  storm,  on  Concord's  fatal  plain ;  25 

There  fell  our  brothers,  by  fierce  ruffians  slain — • 
Inglorious  deed  I  to  wild  despair  then  driv'n, 
We,  suppliant,  made  our  great  appeal  to  heav'n. 
Then  the  shrill  trumpet  echo'd  from  afar, 
And  sudden  blaz'd  the  wasting  flame  of  war ;  30 

From  State  to  State,  swift  flew  the  dire  alarms, 
And  ardent  youths,  impetuous,  rush'd  to  arms: 
"  To  arms"  the  matrons  and  the  virgins  sung, 
To  arms,  their  sires,  their  husbands,  brothers  sprung. 
No  dull  delay — where'er  the  sound  was  heard,  35 

Where  the  red  standards  in  the  air  appear'd, 
Where,  through  vast  realms,  the  cannon  swell'd  its  roar, 
Between  th'  Acadian  and  Floridian  shore. 

« 

Now  join'd  the  crowd,  from  their  far  distant  farms, 
In  rustic  guise,  and  unadorn'd  in  arms:  40 

Not  like  their  foes,  in  tinsel  trappings  gay, 
And  burnish'd  arms  that  glitter'd  on  the  day; 
Who  now  advanc'd,  where  Charlestown  rear'd  its  height, 
In  martial  pomp,  and  claim'dthe  awful  sight; 
And  proudly  deem'd,  with  one  decisive  blow,  45 

To  hurl  destruction  on  the  routed  foe. 
Not  so — just  heav'n  had  fix'd  the  great  decree, 
And  bade  the  sons  of  freemen  still  be  free  ; 
Bade  all  their  souls  with  patriot  ardour  burn, 
And  taught  the  coward  fear  of  death  to  spurn ;  50 

The  threats  of  vengeance  and  of  war  to  brave, 
To  purchase  freedom,  or  a  glorious  grave. 
Long  rag'd  the  contest  on  th'  embattled  field ; 
Nor  those  would  fly,  nor  these  would  tamely  yield — 
Till  Warren  fell,  in  all  the  boast  of  arms,  55 

The  pride  of  genius  and  unrivall'd  charms, 
His  country's  hope! — full  soon  the  gloom  was  spread: 
Oppress'd  with  numbers,  and  their  leader  dead, 
Slow  from  the  field  the  sullen  troops  retir'd ; 
Behind,  the  hostile  flame  to  heav'n  aspir'd.  60 

Th'  imperious  Britons,  on  the  well-fought  ground, 
No  cause  for  joy  or  wanton  triumph  found, 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  9 

But  saw  with  grief  their  dreams  of  conquest  vain, 
Fejt  the  deep  wounds,  and  mourn'd  their  vet'rans  slain. 

Nor  less  our  woes.     Now  darkness  gather'd  round ;         65 
The  thunder  rumbled,  and  the  tempest  frown'd  ; 
When  lo  !  to  guide  us  through  the  storm  of  war, 
Beam'd  the  bright  splendour  of  Virginia's  star. 
O  first  of  heroes,  fav'rite  of  the  skies, 

To  what  dread  toils  thy  country  bade  thee  rise !  70 

"  Oh  rais'd  by  heav'n  to  save  th'  invaded  state  1"* 
(So  spake  the  sage  long  since  thy  future  fate) 
'Twas  tkine  to  change  the  sweetest  scenes  of  life 
For  public  cares — to  guide  th'  embattled  strife  ; 
Unnumber'd  ills  of  ev'ry  kind  to  dare,  75 

The  winter's  blast,  the  summer's  sultry  air, 
The  lurking  dagger,  and  the  turbid  storms 
Of  wasting  war,  with  death  in  all  his  forms. 
Nor  aught  could  daunt.     Unspeakably  serene, 
Thy  conscious  soul  smil'd  o'er  the  dreadful  scene*  80 

The  foe  then  trembled  at  the  well  known  name ; 
And  raptur'd  thousands  to  his  standard  came. 
His  martial  skill  our  rising  armies  form'd ; 
His  patriot  zeal  their  gen'rous  bosoms  warm'd: 
His  voice  inspir'd,  his  godlike  presence  led.  85 

The  Britons  saw,  and  from  his  presence  fled. 
Soon  reinfore'd  from  Albion's  crowded  shore, 
New  legions  came,  new  plains  were  drench'd  in  gore  j 
And  scarce  Columbia's  arm  the  fight  sustains, 
While  her  best  blood  gush'd  from  a  thousand  veins.  90 

Then  thine,  O  Brown !  that  purpled  wide  the  ground, 
Pursued  the  knife  through  many  a  ghastly  wound. 
Ah  hapless  friend  I  permit  the  tender  tear 
To  flow  e'en  now,  for  none  flow'd  on  thy  bier, 
Where  cold  and  mangled,  under  northern  skies,  95 

To  famish *d  wolves  a  prey  thy  body  lies ; 
Which  erst  so  fair  and  tall  in  youthful  grace, 
Strength  in  thy  nerves,  and  beauty  in  thy  face, 
Stood  like  a  tow'r,  till  struck  by  the  swift  ball ; 
Tken  what  avail'd  (to  award  th'  untimely  fall)  100 

*  Tliis  ulluiies  to  expressions  made  use  of  by  president  Davies,in  a  sermon  preached  at  Ha- 
ovfr,  in  Virginia,  daring  U:e  war  of  175."). 

c 


10  ADDRESS  TO  THE  ARMIES  OF  THE 

The  force  of  limbs,  the  mind  so  well  inform 'd, 

The  taste  refin'dr  the  breast  with  friendship  warm'd, 

(That  friendship  which  our  earliest  years  begun) 

Or  what  the  laurels  that  thy  sword  had  won, 

When  the  dark  bands  from  thee,  expiring,  tore  105 

Thy  long  hair  mingled  with  the  spouting  gore  ? 

Nor  less,  brave  Scamme],  frown 'd  thine  angry  fate, 

(May  deathless  shame  that  British  deed  await  1) 

On  York's  fam'd  field,  amid  the  first  alarms, 

Ere  yet  fair  vict'ry  crown'd  the  allied  arms,  110 

Fell  chance  betray'd  thee  to  the  hostile  band, 

The  hapless  victim  of  th'  assassin  handl 

Lo !  while  I  tell  the  execrable  deed, 

Fresh  in  his  side  the  dark  wound  seems  to  bleed ; 

That  small  red  current  still  for  vengeance  cries,  115 

And  asks,  "  Why  sleeps  the  thunder  in  the  skies  ?" 

On  him,  ye  heav'ns,  let  all  your  vengeance  fall, 

On  the  curst  wretch  who  wing'd  th'  insidious  ball. 

But  thou,  blest  shade,  be  sooth'd  !  be  this  thy  praise, 

Ripe  were  thy  virtues,  though  too  few  thy  days  !  120 

Be  this  thy  fame,  through  life  of  all  appi-ov'd, 

To  die  lamented,  honour'd,  and  belov'd. 

And  see,  far  south,  where  yonder  hearse  appears, 
An  army  mourning,  and  a  land  in  tears ! 
There  Laurens,  passing  to  an  early  tomb,  125 

Looks  like  a  flow'r  just  with'ring  in  its  bloom. 
Thy  father's  pride,  the  glory  of  our  host  I 
Thy  country's  sorrow,  late  thy  country's  boast  ! 
O  Laurens !  gen'rous  youth  !  twice  hadst  thou  bled ; 
Could  not  the  ball  with  devious  aim  have  sped  ?  130 

And  must  thy  friends,  now  peace  appears  so  near, 
Weep  the  third  stroke  that  cuts  a  life  so  dear  ; 
That  blots  the  prospect  of  our  rising  morn, 
And  leaves  thy  country,  as  thy  sire,  forlorn  ? 
Companions  lov'd !  long  as  the  life-blood  flows,  135 

Or  vital  warmth  in  this  fond  bosom  glows, 
While  there  I  cherish  your  remembrance  dear, 
Oft  will  I  drop  the  tributary  tear. 

But  what  avails  to  trace  the  fate  of  war 

Through  fields  of  blood,  and  point  each  glorious  scar  ?        140 
Why  should  the  strain  your  former  woes  recall, 
The  tears  that  wept  a  friend  or  brother's  fall, 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  11 

When  by  your  side  first  in  th'  advent'rous  strife, 

He  dauntless  rush'd,  too  prodigal  of  life  ? 

Enough  of  merit  has  each  honour'd  name,  145 

To  shine,  untarnish'd,  on  the  rolls  of  fame; 

To  stand  th'  example  of  each  distant  age, 

And  add  new  lustre  to  th'  historic  page : 

For  soon  their  deeds,  illustrious,  shall  be  shown 

In  breathing  bronze,  or  animated  stone,  150 

Or  where  the  canvass,  starting  into  life, 

Revives  the  glories  of  the  crimson  strife. 

Ye  sons  of  genius,  who  the  pencil  hold, 
Whose  master  strokes,  beyond  description  bold, 
Of  other  years  and  climes  the  hist'ry  trace,  155 

Can  ye  for  this  neglect  your  kindred  race  ? 
Columbia  calls — her  parent  voice  demands 
More  grateful  off  'rings  from  your  filial  hands. 
And  soon  some  bard  shall  tempt  the  untiy'd  themes, 
Sing  how  we  dar'd,  in  Fortune's  worst  extremes  ;  160 

What  cruel  wrongs  th'  indignant  patriot  bore, 
What  various  ills  your  feeling  bosoms  tore, 
What  boding  terrors  gloom'd  the  threat'ning  hour, 
When  British  legions,  arm'd  with  death-like  pow'r, 
Bade  desolation  mark  their  crimson'd  way,  16a 

And  lur'd  the  savage  to  his  destin'd  prey ; 
When  fierce  Germania  her  battalions  pour'd, 
And  Rapine's  sons,  with  wasting  fire  and  sword, 
Spread  death  around :  where'er  your  eyes  ye  turn'd, 
Fled  were  the  peasants,  and  the  village  burn'd.  170 

How  did  your  hearts  for  others'  sufferings  melt! 
What  tort'ring  pangs  your  bleeding  country  felt! 
What !  when  you  fled  before  superior  force, 
Each  succour  lost,  and  perish'd  each  resource ! 
When  nature,  fainting  from  the  want  of  food,  ITS 

On  the  white  snow  your  steps  were  mark'd  in  blood! 
When  through  your  tatter'd  garbs  you  met  the  wind, 
Despair  before,  and  ruin  frown 'd  behind  t 
When  nought  was  seen  around,  but  prospects  drear, 
Th'  insulting  foe  hung  dreadful  on  your  rear,  180 

And  boastful  ween'd,  that  day  to  close  the  scene, 
And  quench  your  name,  as  though  it  ne'er  had  been. 

Why,  Britain,   rag'd  thine  insolence  and  scorn  ? 
Why  burst  thy  vengeance  on  the  wretch  forlorn? 


if  ADDRESS  TO  THE  ARMIES  OF  THE 

The  cheerless  captive,  to  slow  death  consign 'd,  183 

Chill'd  with  keen  frost,  in  prison  glooms  confin'd ; 

Of  hope  bereft,  by  thy  vile  minions  curst, 

With  hunger  famish'd,  and  consum'd  with  thirst, 

Without  one  friend — when  death's  last  horror  stung, 

Roll'd  the  wild  eye,  and  gnaw'd  the  anguish'd  tongue.       190 

Why,  Britain,    in  thine  arrogance  and  pride, 
Didst  thou  heav'n's  violated  laws  deride, 
Mock  human  mis'ry  with  contemptuous  sneers, 
And  fill  thy  cup  of  guilt  with  orphans'  tears  ? 
The  widow's  wailing,  and  the  wretch's  groan,  195 

Rise  in  remembrance  to  th'  eternal  throne, 
While  the  red  flame,  through  the  broad  concave  driv'n, 
Calls  down  the  vengeance  of  insulted  heav'n. 
And  didst  thou  think,  by  cruelty  refin'd, 
To  damp  the  ardour  of  the  heav'n-born  mind,  200 

With  haughty  threats  to  force  the  daring  train 
To  bow,  unnerv'd,  in  slav'ry's  galling  chain  ; 
Make  countless  freemen — then  no  longer  free, 
Shrink  at  thy  frown,  and  bend  the  servile  knee? 
And  couldst  thou  dream  ?  then  wake,  dissolve  thy  charms, 
Rous'd  by  their  wrongs,  see  desp'rate  hosts  in  arms!          206 
No  fear  dismays,  nor  danger's  voice  appals, 
While  kindred  blood  for  sacred  vengeance  calls: 
Their  swords  shall  triumph  o'er  thy  vaunted  force, 
And  curb  the  conqu'ror  in  his  headlong  course.  210 

What  spoils  of  war,  thy  sons,  Columbia,  claim 'd! 
What  trophies  rose,  where  thy  red  ensigns  flam'd! 
Where  the  great  chief,  o'er  Del'ware's  icy  wave, 
Led  the  small  band,  in  danger  doubly  brave  ; 
On  high  designs,  and  ere  the  dawning  hour,  21$ 

Germania's  vet'ran's  own'dthe  victor's  pow'r; 
Or  on  the  muse's  plain,  where  round  thy  tomb, 
O  gallant  Mercer !  deathless  laurels  bloom ; 
Or  where,  anon,  in  northern  fields  renown'd, 
The  tide  of  slaughter  stain'd  the  sanguine  ground;;  220 

When  the  bold  freemen,  gath'ring  from  afar, 
Foil'd  the  proud  foe,  and  crush'd  the  savage  war : 
On  that  brave  band  their  country's  plaudit  waits, 
And  consecrates  to  fame  the  name  of  Gates. 
Nor  less  the  valour  of  the  impetuous  shock,  235 

Which  seiz'd  the  glorious  prize  on  Hudson's  rock, 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  13 

Where  Wayne,  e'en  while  he  felt  the  whizzing  ball, 

Pluck'd  the  proud  standard  from  the  vanquish'd  wall. 

Now  turn  your  eyes,  where  southern  realms  are  seen, 

From  ruin  rescu'd,  by  th'  immortal  Greene:  230 

See  toils  of  death,  where  many  a  hei'o  bleeds-, 

Till  rapid  vict'ry,  to  defeat,  succeeds. 

On  num'rous  plains,  whose  streams,  unknown  to  song, 

Till  this  great  sera,  roll'd  obscure  along, 

Their  names  shall  now,  to  fame  familiar  grown,  235 

Outlast  the  pile  of  monumental  stone. 

Or  see  on  fair  Virginia's  strand  arise, 

The  column  pointing  to  the  fav'ring  skies  ; 

Inscrib'd  with  deeds  the  fed'rate  arms  have  done, 

And  grav'd  with  ti'ophies  from  Britannia  won :  249 

Here  stand  the  conqu'ring  bands ;  the  vanquish 'd  throng 

Through  the  long  lines  in  silence  move  along: 

The  stars  and  lilies,  here  in  laurels  drest, 

And  there,  dark  shrouds  the  banner'd  pride  invest: 

These  twice  twelve  banners  once  in  pomp  unfurl'd,  245 

Spread  death  and  terror  round  the  southern  world : 

In  various  colours  from  the  staff  unroll'd, 

The  lion  frown'd,  the  eagle  flam'd  in  gold  ; 

Hibernia's  harp,  reluctant,  hei'e  was  hung, 

And  Scotia's  thistle  there  spontaneous  sprung:  250 

These  twice  twelve  flags  no  more  shall  be  display'd, 

Save  in  the  dome  where  warlike  spoils  are  laid: 

Since,  where  the  fathers  in  high  council  meet, 

This  hand  has  plac'd  them  prostrate  at  their  feet. 

So  beam  the  glories  of  the  victor  band  !  255 

And  such  the  dawning  hope  that  cheers  our  land ! 
Since  Gallia's  fire,  intent  on  cares  of  state, 
Sublimely  good,  magnanimously  great ! 
Protector  of  the  rights  of  human  kind, 

Weigh'd  the  dread  contest  in  his  royal  mind,  260 

And  bade  his  fleets  o'er  the  broad  ocean  fly, 
To  succour  realms  beneath  another  sky  ! 
Since  his  blest  troops,  in  happiest  toils  allied, 
Have  fought,  have  bled,  have  conquer'd  by  your  side : 
The  mingled  stream,  in  the  same  trench  that  flow'd,        '  265 
Cements  the  nations  by  tlreir  heroes'  blood. 

Yet  still,  Columbians,  sec  what  choice  remains, 
Ignoble  bondage  and  inglorious  chains, 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  ARMIES  OF  THE 

Or  all  the  joys  which  liberty  can  give, 

For  which  you  dare  to  die,  or  wish  to  live.  270* 

On  the  drawn  sword  your  country's  fate  depends  : 

Your  wives,  your  children,  parents,  brothers,   friends^ 

With  all  the  tender  charities  of  life, 

Hang  on  the  issue  of  the  arduous  strife. 

To  bolder  deeds,  and  victory's  fierce  delights,  275 

Your  country  calls,  and  heav'n  itself  invites. 
Charm 'd  by  their  potent  voice,  let  virtue's  flame, 
The  sense  of  honour,  and  the  fear  of  shame, 
The  thirst  of  praise,  and  freedom's  envied  cause, 
The  smiles  of  heroes,  and  the  world's  applause,  280 

Impel  each  breast,  in  glory's  dread  career, 
Firm  as  your  rock-rais'd  hills,  to  persevere. 

Now  the  sixth  year  of  independence  smiles, 
The  glorious  meed  of  all  our  warlike  toils ; 
Auspicious  pow'r,  with  thy  broad  flag  unfurPd,  285 

Shed  thy  stern  influence  on  our  western  world  1 
With  thy  congenial  flame  our  hearts  inspire, 
With  manly  patience  and  heroic  fire, 
The  rudest  shock  of  fortune's  storm  to  bear: 
Each  ill  to  suffer  ;  every  death  to  dare  ;  290 

To  rush  undaunted  in  th'  advent'rous  van, 
And  meet  the  Britons,  man  oppos'd  to  man  ; 
With  surer  aim  repel  their  barb'rous  rage; 
Shield  the  poor  orphan,  and  the  white-hair'd  sage  ; 
Defend  the  matron,  and  the  virgin's  charms,  295 

And  vindicate  our  sacred  rights  with  arms. 
This  the  great  genius  of  our  land  requires, 
This  the  blest  shades  of  our  illustrious  sires, 
This  the  brave  sons  of  future  years  demand, 
Cheers  the  faint  heart,  and  nerves  the  feeble  hand ;  300 

This  sacred  hope,  that  points  beyond  the  span 
Which  bounds  this  transitory  life  of  man, 
Where  glory  lures  us  with  her  bright  renown. 
The  hero's  triumph,  and  the  patriot's  crown  ; 
The  fair  reward  to  suff'ring  virtue  giv'n,  305 

Pure  robes  of  bliss,  and  starry  thrones  in  heav'n. 

Chang'd  are  the  scenes  ;  now  fairer  prospects  rise, 
And  brighter  suns  begin  to  gild  our  skies. 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  15 

Th'  exhausted  foe,  his  last  poor  effort  try'd, 

Sees  nought  remain,  save  impotence  and  pride:  310 

His  golden  dreams  of  fancied  conquest  o'er, 

(And  Gallia  thund'ring  round  his  native  shore, 

Iberia  aiding  with  Potosi's  mines, 

While  brave  Batavia  in  the  conflict  joins) 

Reluctant  turns,  and,  deep  involv'd  in  woes,  315 

In  other  climes  prepares  for  other  foes. 

Anon,  the  horrid  sounds  of  war  shall  cease, 
And  all  the  western  world  be  hush'd  in  peace  : 
The  martial  clarion  shall  be  heard  no  more, 
Nor  the  loud  cannon's  desolating  roar :  320 

No  more  our  heroes  pour  the  purple  flood, 
No  corse  be  seen  with  garments  roll'd  in  blood  ; 
No  shivering  wretch  shall  roam  without  a  shed; 
No  pining  orphans  i*aise  their  cry  for  bread ; 
No  tender  mother  shriek  at  dreams  of  woe,  325 

Start  from  her  sleep,  and  see  the  midnight  foe  ; 
The  lovely  virgin,  and  the  hoary  sire, 
No  more  behold  the  village  flame  aspire, 
While  the  base  spoiler,  from  a  father's  arms, 
Plucks  the  fair  flower,  and  riots  on  its  charms.  330 

E'en  now,  from  half  the  threaten'd  horrors  freed, 
See  from  our  shores  the  less'ning  sails  recede : 
See  the  red  flags,  that  to  the  wind  unfurl'd, 
Wav'd  in  proud  triumph  round  the  vanquish'd  world, 
Inglorious  fly ;  and  see  their  haggard  crew,  335 

Despair,  rage,  shame,  and  infamy  pursue. 

Hail,  heav'n-born  Peace  !  thy  grateful  blessings  pour 
On  this  glad  land,  and  round  the  peopled  shore: 
Thine  are  the  joys  that  gild  the  happy  scene, 
Propitious  days,  and  festive  nights  serene;  340 

With  thee  gay  Pleasure  frolics  o'er  the  plain, 
And  smiling  Plenty  leads  thy  prosp'rous  train. 

Then  oh,  my  friends  1  the  task  of  glory  done, 
Tli'  immortal  prize  by  your  bold  efforts  won  ; 
Your  country's  saviours,  by  her  voice  confess'd,  345 

While  unborn  ages  rise  and  call  you  blest — 
Then  let  us  go  when:  happier  climes  invite, 
To  midland  seas,  and  regions  of  delight; 


16  ADDRESS  TO  THE  ARMIES  OF  THE 

With  all  that's  ours,  together  let  us  rise, 

Seek  brighter  plains  and  more  indulgent  skies  ;  350 

Where  fair  Ohio  rolls  his  amber  tide, 

And  nature  blossoms  in  her  virgin  pride  ; 

Where  all  that  beauty's  hand  can  form  to  please, 

Shall  crown  the  toils  of  war  with  rural  ease. 

The  shady  coverts  and  the  sunny  hills,  355 

The  gentle  lapse  of  ever-murm'ring  rills, 

The  soft  repose  amid  the  noon-tide  bow'rs, 

The  evening  walk  among  the  blushing  flow'rs, 

The  fragrant  groves  that  yield  a  sweet  perfume, 

And  vernal  glories  in  perpetual  bloom,  360 

Await  you  there;  and  heav'n  shall  bless  the  toil, 

Your  own  the  produce,  as  your  own  the  soil. 

No  tyrant  lord  shall  grasp  a  thousand  farms, 
Curse  the  mild  clime,  and  spoil  its  fairest  charms : 
No  blast  severe  your  ripening  fields  deform,  365 

No  vollied  hail-stones,  and  no  driving  storm : 
No  raging  murrain  on  your  cattle  seize, 
And  nature  sicken  with  the  dire  disease. 
But  golden  years,  anew,  begin  their  reigns, 
And  cloudless  sunshine  gild  salubrious  plains.  3TQ 

Herbs,  fruits  and  flow'rs  shall  clothe  th'  uncultur'd  field, 
Nectareous  juice  the  vine  and  orchard  yield  j 
Rich  dulcet  creams  the  copious  goblets  fill, 
Delicious  honey  from  the  trees  distil ; 

The  garden  smile,  spontaneous  harvests  spring,  375 

The  vallies  warble,  and  the  woodlands  ring. 

Along  the  meads,  or  near  the  shady  groves, 
There  sport  the  flocks,  there  feed  the  fatt'ning  droves  ; 
There  strays  the  steed,  through  bloomy  vales  afar, 
Who  erst  mov'd  lofty  in  the  ranks  of  war.  380 

There,  free  from  envy,  cank'ring  care  and  strife, 
Flow  the  calm  pleasures  of  domestic  life : 
There  mutual  friendship  soothes  each  placid  breast, 
Blest  in  themselves,  and  in  each  other  blest. 
From  house  to  house  the  social  glee  extends,  385 

For  friends  in  war,  in  piece  are  doubly  friends : 
Their  children  taught  to  emulate  their  sires, 
Catch  the  warm  glow,  and  feel  the  kindred  fires, 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  If 

Till  by  degrees  the  mingling  joys  improve, 

Grow  with  their  years,  and  ripen  into  love:  390 

Nor  long  the  blushing  pair  in  secret  sigh, 

And  drink  sweet  poison  from  the  love-sick  eye ; 

Blest  be  their  lot,  when  in  his  eager  arms 

Th'  enamour'd  youth  folds  the  fair  virgin's  charms ; 

On  her  ripe  lip  imprints  the  burning  kiss,  395 

And  seals  with  hallow'd  rites  the  nuptial  bliss. 

Then  festal  sports  the  ev'ning  hours  prolong, 

The  mazy  dance,  and  the  sweet  wai'bling  song : 

Then  each  endearment  wakes  the  ravish'd  sense 

To  pure  delights,  and  raptures  most  intense:  400 

And  the  pleas'd  parent  tells  his  list'ning  son, 

What  wond'rous  deeds,  by  him,  in  youth,  were  done. 

No  sights  of  woe,  no  tort'ring  fears  annoy 

The  sweet  sensations  of  the  heart-felt  joy : 

Nor  shall  the  savages  of  murd'rous  soul,  405 

In  painted  bands  dark  to  the  combat  roll, 

With  midnight  orgies,  by  the  gloomy  shade, 

On  the  pale  victim  point  the  reeking  blade ; 

Or  cause  the  hamlet,  lull'd  in  deep  repose, 

No  more  to  wake,  or  wake  to  ceaseless  woes :  410 

For  your  strong  arm  the  guarded  land  secures, 

And  freedom,  glory,  happiness,  are  yours! 

So  shall  you  nourish  in  unfading  prime, 
Each  age  refining  through  the  reign  of  time  j 
A  nobler  offspring  crown  the  fond  embrace,  415 

A  band  of  heroes,  and  a  patriot  race : 
Not  by  soft  Luxury's  too  dainty  food, 
Their  minds  contaminated  with  their  blood : 
But  like  the  heirs  our  great  forefathers  bred, 
By  freedom  nurtur'd,  and  by  temp'rance  fed ;  420 

Healthful  and  strong,  they  turn'd  the  virgin  soil, 
The  untam'd  forest  bow'd  beneath  their  toil : 
At  early  dawh  they  sought  the  mountain  chace, 
Or  rous'd  the  Indian  from  his  lurking  place; 
Curb'd  the  mad  fury  of  those  barb'rous  men,  425 

Or  dragg'd  the  wild  beast  struggling  from  his  den : 
To  all  the  vigour  of  that  pristine  race, 
New  charms  are  added,  and  superior  grace. 

Then  cities  rise,  and  spiry  towns  increase, 
With  gilded  domes,  and  every  art  of  peace.  430 

D 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  ARMIES,  See. 

Then  Cultivation  shall  extend  his  pow'r, 

Rear  the  green  blade,  and  nurse  the  tender  flow'r ; 

Make  the  fair  villa  in  full  splendours  smile, 

And  robe  with  verdure  all  the  genial  soil. 

Then  shall  rich  Commerce  court  the  fav'ring  gales,  435 

And  wond'ring  wilds  admire  the  passing  sails  ; 

Where  the  bold  ships  the  stormy  Huron  brave, 

Where  wild  Ontario  rolls  the  whit'ning  wave, 

Where  fair  Ohio  his  pure  current  pours, 

And  Mississippi  laves  th'  extended  shores.  440 

Then  oh,  blest  land !  with  genius  unconfin'd, 
With  polish'd  manners,  and  th'  illumin'd  mind, 
Thy  future  race  on  daring  wing  shall  soar, 
Each  science  trace,  and  all  the  arts  explore  j 
Till  bright  religion,  beck'ning  to  the  skies,  445' 

Shall  bid  thy  sons  to  endless  glories  rise. 

As  round  thy  clime  celestial  joy  extends, 
Thy  beauties  ripen,  and  thy  pomp  ascends ; 
Farther  and  farther  still,  thy  blessings  roll, 
To  southern  oceans  and  the  northern  pole ;  450 

Where  now  the  thorn,  or  tangled  thicket  grows, 
The  wilderness  shall  blossom  as  the  rose  ; 
Unbounded  deserts  unknown  charms  assume, 
Like  Salem  flourish,  and  like  Eden  bloom. 

And  oh,  may  heav'n  !  when  all  our  toils  are  past,          455 
Crown  with  such  happiness  our  days  at  last: 
So  rise  our  sons,  like  our  great  sires  of  old, 
In  Freedom's  cause,  unconquerably  bold ; 
With  spotless  faith,  and  morals  pure,  their  name 
Spread  through  the  world,  and  gain  immortal  fame.          460 

And  thou  Supreme  !  whose  hand  sustains  this  ball, 
Before  whose  nod  the  nations  rise  and  fall, 
Propitious  smile,  and  shed  diviner  charms 
On  this  blest  land,  the  queen  of  arts  and  arms ; 
Make  the  great  empire  rise  on  Wisdom's  plan, 
The  seat  of  bliss,  and  last  retreat  of  man,  466 


A 

P  O  E  M 


ON    THE 


HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA. 

ADDRESSED  TO  THE  CITIZENS  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


TENTH  EDITION. 


Extract  from  the  COLUMBIAN  MAGAziNE/or  October,  1786. 

REMARKS 

ON    THE 

HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA: 
A  POEM. 

A.  LOVE  of  liberty,  a  spirit  of  enterprize,  fortitude  in  diffi 
culties,  and  a  military  turn  of  mind,  are  conspicuous  traits  in  the 
American  character.  Those  dispositions,  if  properly  directed, 
will  tend  to  the  aggrandizement  and  prosperity  of  our  infant  re-, 
publican  empire. 

America  stands  high,  also,  in  literary  reputation :  and  so 
great  is  the  spirit  which  now  prevails  in  the  United  States,  for  the 
promotion  of  useful  learning,  and  advancement  of  science,  that, 
aided  by  the  native  genius  of  our  people,  we  may  reasonably  ex 
pect  to  arrive  at  the  highest  degree  of  eminence  in  these  respects. 
Nor  have  we  cause  to  draw  less  favourable  expectations  from  the 
specimens  that  have  been  already  exhibited,  of  the  natural  taste 
and  propensity  of  our  countrymen  for  the  liberal  and  polite  arts. 

Among  the  patriots,  statesmen,  heroes,  philosophers,  and  artists 
of  this  country,  we  find  names  that  would  do  honour  to  any  age  or 
nation.  What  a  glorious  constellation  is  formed  by  an  assemblage 
of  those  worthies,  whom  America  has  the  honour  of  enrolling 
among  her  sons ! 

Amidst  the  favourite  pursuits  of  our  countrymen,  the  Muses 
have  had  their  votaries ;  nor  have  those  coy  maids  been  unsuc 
cessfully  courted.  Their  genius  seems  much  delighted  with  our 
sylvan  scenes.  The  face  of  nature,  throughout  the  United  States, 
exhibits  the  sublime  and  beautiful,  in  the  most  exalted  degree.  In 
almost  every  part  of  this  country,  we  are  surrounded  with  objects 
calculated  to  inspire  the  most  elevated  conceptions  of  the  imagina 
tion.  Our  mountains,  vallies,  plains,  and  rivers,  are  formed  upon 
a  great  scale  ;  the  extent  of  the  country  itself  is  great ;  and  the 
whole  is  rendered  magnificently  beautiful,  by  the  creating  hand  of 
the  Almighty  Architect  1  And  if  we  contemplate  the  eminently 


522  REMARKS,  Sec. 

dignified  part  that  has  been  recently  acted  on  the  vast  national 
stage,  with  the  scenes  of  magnanimity,  wisdom,  and  patriotic  vir 
tue,  which  our  gallant  countrymen  have  exhibited  thereon,  we 
must  allow,  that  nothing  can  afford  more  noble  themes  for  our  na 
tive  bards. 

Among  the  literary  productions  of  American  genius,  "  A  Poem 
on  the  Happiness  of  America,  addressed  to  the  Citizens  of  the 
United  States,"  by  Colonel  Humphreys,  claims  a  superior  station. 
The  beauties  of  this  piece  do  great  honour  to  the  author,  and  dis 
cover  that  he  possesses  a  truly  patriotic  soul,  as  well  as  a  mind 
animated  with  genuine  poetic  fire. 

As  this  elegant  piece,  by  some  unaccountable  circumstance,  has 
not  yet  made  its  appearance  in  the  shops  of  our  booksellers,  we 
beg  leave  to  present  the  public  with  a  few  quotations  from  it ;  re 
minding  them,  at  the  same  time,  of  the  imperfect  idea  of  its  merit 
that  mutilated  parts  of  the  piece  must  be  supposed  to  convey. 

As  it  is  probable  that  a  new  edition  of  this  Poem  will  speedily 
be  published,  the  public  will  then  have  the  gratification  of  reading 
it  entire. 


PREFACE 

TO   THE 

NINTH  EDITION  OF  THE  POEM 

ON  THE 

HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA. 


L  HIS  Poem  having  passed  through  eight  editions  in  little  more 
than  four  years,  without  having  been  accompanied  with  any  intro 
duction  or  preface,  the  writer  hopes  he  shall  escape  every  uncan- 
did  imputation,  in  offering,  with  this  edition,  his  acknowledgments 
for  the  flattering  reception  it  has  met  with  from  the  public,  toge 
ther  with  some  of  the  motives  which  originally  engaged  him  in 
this  performance. 

The  writer  is  happy  that  he  has  chosen  a  subject  more  inter 
esting  than  almost  any  other  to  the  feelings  of  his  countrymen, 
and  that  the  topics  introduced  in  its  discussion  have  not  proved  un 
satisfactory  to  those  for  whose  entertainment  the  work  was  de 
signed.  To  these  causes,  rather  than  to  its  intrinsic  value  as  a 
composition,  he  attributes  the  distinguished  regard  with  which  it 
has  been  honoured. 

The  United  States  of  America,  when  first  assuming  their  place 
as  a  nation  among  the  nations  of  the  earth,  presented  a  momen 
tous  and  awful  spectacle  to  mankind ;  for  the  political  welfare 
of  the  species  seemed,  in  some  sort,  involved  in  the  event.  The 
theatre  was  vast}  the  plot  new,  the  parts  important,  and  the  con- 


$4  PREFACE. 

duct  of  the  action  for  a  long  time  so  doubtful,  as  to  produce  dis 
tressing  apprehensions  respecting  its  termination.  The  Ameri 
cans,  whose  exertions  and  sufferings  had  been  rewarded  by  the  ac 
quisition  of  Independence,  were,  however,  at  the  end  of  the  war, 
surrounded  with  threatening  prospects.  In  these  circumstances 
the  writer  endeavoured  to  show  his  countrymen  the  superior  ad 
vantages  for  happiness  which  they  possessed ;  to  dissipate  their 
gloomy  apprehensions,  by  the  exhibition  of  consolatory  anticipa 
tions  ;  and  to  make  them  think  favourably  of  their  own  situation 
when  compared  with  that  of  other  nations.  Many  circumstances 
conspired  to  give  facility  to  the  execution  of  the  task  he  had  im 
posed  on  himself.  The  ideas  were  principally  suggested  by  the 
peculiarity  of  our  condition.  We  began  our  political  career,  in  a 
great  measure,  free  from  the  prejudice,  and  favoured  with  the 
knowledge  of  former  ages  and  other  nations.  The  amiable  inno 
cence  and  simplicity  of  manners  which  resulted  from  the  present 
state  of  society  in  America,  offered  a  curious  subject  for  philoso 
phical  contemplation.  Our  minds,  imperceptibly  impressed  with 
the  novelty,  beauty,  or  sublimity  of  surrounding  objects,  gave  en 
ergy  to  the  language  which  expressed  our  sensations.  While  the 
shades  of  changing  nature,  which  diversified  the  scenery  through 
all  the  intermediate  stages  of  settlement  and  population,  from  the 
rude  grandeur  of  a  wilderness  to  the  pleasant  landscapes  of  culti 
vation,  afforded  an  extensive  field  for  variegated  description.  To 
an  assemblage  of  such  magnificent  images,  so  proper  for  poetry, 
were  added,  a  multitude  of  incidents  derived  from  the  delights  of 
agricultural  life,  the  blessings  of  enlightened  society,  and  the  pro 
gress  of  human  improvements.  The  author,  by  thus  availing 
himself  of  circumstances,  was  enabled  to  gratify  an  early  and  de 
cided  propensity  for  contemplating  the  beauties  of  creation,  espe 
cially  under  that  point  of  view  in  which  they  are  most  conspicu 
ously  beneficial  to  his  fellow  men. 


PREFACE.  25 

Since  this  Poem  was  written,  by  the  establishment  of  a  general 
government,  and  the  concurrence  of  fortunate  events,  scenes  of 
happienss  have  been  realized  in  this  country,  which  were  considered 
by  some  altogether  chimerical.  And  the  prospects  which  are 
now  expanding  before  our  view,  seem  peculiarly  calculated  to 
excite  us  to  greater  exertions,  not  only  for  promoting  the  national 
prosperity,  but  even  for  producing  such  examples  in  civil  policy,  as 
will  tend  essentially  to  the  amelioration  of  the  human  lot. 


£ 


ARGUMENT. 

The  characters  to  whom  the  fioem  is  addressed,  and  the  subject  of 
it— peace — dissolution  of  the  army — General  Washington's, 
farewell  advice  and  retirement — apostrophe  to  him — the  hap 
piness  of  the  Americans  considered  as  a  free  and  agricultural 
people — articles  which  contribute  to  their  felicity  during  the 
different  seasons — winter's  amusements,  which  produce  a  di 
gression  concerning  the  late  war  and  the  author — the  pleasures 
which  succeeded  the  horrors  of  war — invocation  to  connubial 
love — description  of  the  female  sex  and  character,  marriage 
and  domestic  life  in  America — the  present  state  of  society  there 
— the  face  of  the  country  at  and  since  the  period  of  its  discovery 
— the  pleasant  prospects  exhibited  by  the  progress  of  agricul 
ture  and  population — eulogy  of  agriculture — address  to  Con 
gress — the  genius  of  the  western  world  invoked  to  accelerate 
our  improvements — a  treaty  of  commerce  proposed  with  Great- 
Britain — superior  advantages  for  a  marine — America  called 
upon  to  employ  her  sons  on  discoveries  in  the  carrying  tradet 
whaling  and  commerce* 


A  POEM 

ON  THE 

HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA. 


happy  people,  ye  to  whom  is  giv'n 
A  land  enrich 'd  with  sweetest  dews  of  heav'n  I 
Ye,  who  possess  Columbia's  virgin  prime, 
In  harvests  blest  of  ev'ry  soil  and  clime  ! 
Ye  happy  mortals,  whom  propitious  fate  5 

Reserv'd  for  actors  on  a  stage  so  great ! 
Sons  worthy  sires  of  venerable  name, 
Heirs  of  their  virtue  and  immortal  fame, 
Heirs  of  their  rights  still  better  understood, 
Declar'd  in  thunder,  and  confirm'd  in  blood :  10 

Ye  chosen  race,  your  happiness  I  sing, 
With  all  the  joys  the  cherub  peace  can  bring, 
When  your  tall  fleets  shall  lift  their  starry  pride, 
And  sail  triumphant  o'er  the  bill'wy  tide. 

The  song  begins  where  all  our  bliss  began,  15 

What  time  th'  Almighty  check'd  the  wrath  of  man, 
Distill'd,  in  bleeding  wounds,  the  balm  of  peace, 
And  bade  the  rage  of  mortal  discord  cease. 
Then  foes,  grown  friends,  from  toils  of  slaughter  breath'd, 
Then  war-worn  ti'oops  their  blood-stain 'd  weapons  sheath 'd :  20 
Then  our  great  Chief  to  Vernon's  shades  withdrew, 
And  thus,  to  parting  hosts,  pronounc'd  adieu : 

"  Farewell  to  public  care,  to  public  life : 
11  Now  peace  invites  me  from  the  deathful  strife. 
"  And  oh  my  country,  may'st  thou  ne'er  forget  25 

"  Thy  bands  victorious,  and  thy  honest  debt ! 
<l  If  aught  which  proves  to  me  thy  freedom  dear, 
"  Gives  me  a  claim  to  speak,  thy  sons  shall  hear : 
"  On  them  I  call — Compatriots  dear  and  brave, 
**  Deep  in  your  breasts  these  warning  truths  engrave :         30 


38  ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA. 

"  To  guard  your  sacred  rights — be  just !  be  wise ! 

"  Thence  flow  your  blessings,  there  your  glory  lies. 

"  Beware  the  feuds  whence  civil  war  proceeds  ; 

"  Fly  mean  suspicions ;  spurn  inglorious  deeds ; 

«  Shun  fell  corruption's  pestilential  breath,  35 

"  To  states  the  cause,  and  harbinger  of  death. 

"  Fly  dissipation,  in  whose  vortex  whirl'd, 

"  Sink  the  proud  nations  of  the  elder  world. 

<{  Avoid  the  hidden  snares  that  pleasure  spreads, 

"  To  seize  and  chain  you,  in  her  silken  threads ;  40 

"  Let  not  the  lust  of  gold  nor  pow'r  enthral ; 

"  Nor  list  the  wild  ambition's  frantic  call. 

"  Stop,  stop  your  ears  to  discord's  curst  alarms, 

"  Which,  rousing,  drive  a  mad'ning  world  to  arms  : 

"  But  learn,  from  others'  woes,  sweet  peace  to  prize,  45 

"  To  know  your  bliss,  and  where  your  treasure  lies — 

"  Within  the  compass  of  your  little  farms, 

"  Lodg'd  in  your  breasts,  or  folded  in  your  arms : 

"  Blest  in  your  clime,  beyond  all  nations  blest, 

"Whom  oceans  guard,  and  boundless  wilds  invest.  50 

"  Nor  yet  neglect  the  native  force  which  grows, 
"  Your  shield  from  insult,  and  your  wall  from  foes ; 
*'  But  early  train  your  youth,  by  mimic  fights, 
"  To  stand  the  guardians  of  their  country's  rights. 

"  By  honour  rul'd,  with  honesty  your  guide,  55 

"  Be  that  your  bulwark,  and  be  this  your  pride ; 
"  Increase  the  fed'ral  ties;  support  the  laws ; 
*'  Guard  public  faith ;  revere  religion's  cause. 
"  Thus  rise  to  greatness — by  experience  find, 
"  Who  live  the  best,  are  greatest  of  mankind.  60 

«  And  ye,  my  faithful  friends,  (for  thus  I  name 
"  My  fellow  lab'rers  in  the  field  of  fame) 
"  Ye,  who  for  freedom  nobly  shed  your  blood, 
"  Dy'd  ev'ry  plain,  and  purpled  ev'ry  flood, 
"  Where  havock  heap'd  of  arms,  and  men  the  wreck,         65 
"  From  Georgia's  stream  to  walls  of  proud  Quebec ; 
"  To  these  stern  toils  the  peaceful  scene  succeeds, 
*'  The  eyes  of  nations  watch  your  future  deeds : 
"  Go  act,  as  citizens,  in  life's  retreat, 
*•'  Your  parts  as  well,  and  make  your  fame  complete :          7Q 


ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA.  39 

"  'Tis  our's  for  ever,  from  this  hour  to  part, 
"  Accept  th'  effusions  of  a  grateful  heart ! 
"  Where'er  you  go,  may  milder  fates  pursue, 
"  Receive  my  warmest  thanks,  my  last  adieu  I" 

The  HERO  spoke — an  awful  pause  ensu'd :  75 

Each  eye  was  red,  each  face  with  tears  bedew'd ; 
As  if  the  pulse  of  life  suspended  stood, 
An  unknown  horror  chill'd  the  curdling  blood: 
Their  arms  were  lock'd ;  their  cheeks  irriguous  met, 
By  thy  soft  trickling  dews,  affection  !  wet.  80 

Words  past  all  utt'rance  mock'd  the  idle  tongue, 
While  petrified  in  final  gaze  they  clung. 

The  bands  retiring,  sought  their  ancient  farms, 
With  laurels  crown'd — receiv'd  with  open  arms. 
Now  citizens,  they  form'd  no  sep'rate  class,  85 

But  spread,  commixing,  through  the  gen'ral  mass : 
Congenial  metals,  thus,  by  chymic  flame, 
Dissolve,  assimilate,  and  grow  the  same. 

Swords  turn'd  to  shares,  and  war  to  rural  toil, 
The  men  who  sav'cl,  now  cultivate  the  soil.  90 

In  no  heroic  age,  since  time  began, 
Appear 'd  so  great  the  majesty  of  man. 

His  task  complete,  before  the  sires  august 
The  hero  stood,  and  render'd  up  his  trust. 
But  who  shall  dare  describe  that  act  supreme,  95 

And  fire  his  numbers  with  the  glowing  theme  ? 
Who  sing,  though  aided  with  immortal  pow'rs, 
The  towns  in  raptures,  and  the  roads  in  flow'rs, 
Where'er  he  pass'd  ?  What  monarch  ever  knew 
Such  acclamations,  bursts  of  joy  so  true  ?  100 

What  scenes  I  saw  !  how  oft,  surpris'd  I  felt, 
Through  streaming  eyes,  my  heart,  dilated,  melt! 
Scenes  that  no  words,  no  colours  can  display, 
No  sculptur'd  marble,  and  no  living  lay : 
Yet  shall  these  scenes  impress  my  mem'ry  still,  105 

Nor  less  the  festal  hours  of  Vernon's  hill ; 
Nor  that  sad  moment  when  'twas  mine  to  part, 
As  the  last  heart  string  severs  from  the  heart. 


30  CW  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA. 

"  Adieu,"  I  cried,  "  to  Vernon's  shades,  adieu  ! 
"  The  vessel  waits — I  see  the  beck'ning  crew —  110 

"  Me  now  to  foreign  climes  new  duties  guide, 
«  O'er  the  vast  desert  of  th'  Atlantic  tide. 
"  'Tis  thine,  blest  sage,  while  distant  thunders  roll, 
*'  Unmov'd  thy  calm  serenity  of  soul, 

"  'Tis  tliine,  whose  triumphs  bade  the  combat  cease,  115 

"  To  prove  how  glorious  are  the  works  of  peace ; 
"  To  lure  rich  commerce*  up  thy  native  bay ; 
*'  Make  freighted  barks  beyond  the  mountains  stray ; 
"  Make  inland  seas  through  op'ning  channels  glide ; 
"  Monongahela  wed  Potowmac's  tide :  120 

«  New  states,  exulting,  see  the  flitting  sails 
"  Waft  joy  and  plenty  round  the  peopled  vales." 

All  former  empires  rose,  the  work  of  guilt, 
On  conquest,  blood,  or  usurpation  built : 
But  we,  taught  wisdom  by  their  woes  and  crimes,  12$ 

Fraught  with  their  lore,  and  born  to  better  times ; 
Our  constitutions  form'd  on  freedom's  base, 
Which  all  the  blessings  of  all  lands  embrace  ; 
Embrace  humanity's  extended  cause, 
A  world  our  empire,  for  a  world  our  laws.  130 

Thrice  happy  race  !  how  blest  were  freedom's  heirs, 
Blest  if  they  knew  what  happiness  is  theirs, 
Blest  if  they  knew  to  them  alone  'tis  given, 
To  know  no  sov'reign  but  the  law  and  heav'n  ! 
That  law  for  tlrem,  and  Albion's  realms  alone,  135 

On  sacred  justice  elevates  her  throne, 
Regards  the  poor,  the  fatherless  protects, 
The  widow  shields,  the  proud  oppressor  checks  ! 
Blest  if  they  knew,  beneath  umbrageous  trees, 
To  prize  the  joys  of  innocence  and  ease,  140 

Of  peace,  of  health,  of  temp 'ranee,  toil,  and  rest, 
And  the  calm  sunshine  of  the  conscious  breast. 
For  them,  the  spring  his  annual  task  resumes, 
Invests  in  verdure,  and  adorns  in  blooms 
Earth's  parent  lap,  and  all  her  wanton  bow'rs,  145 

In  foliage  fair,  with  aromatic  flow'rs. 

*  General  Washington  is  actually  occupied  in  opening  the  falls  of  Potowraack  and 
James'  Rivers,  the  noble  object  of  which  is  to  extend  the  navigation  through  the  interior 
parts  of  America.  Posterity  v.ill  judge  whether  this  is  not  one  of  the  great  worKs  of  peace, 
worthy  the  consistency  and  dignity  of  his  character. 


ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA.  31 

Their  fanning  wings  the  zephyrs  gently  play, 

And  winnow  blossoms  from  each  floating  spray: 

In  bursting  buds  the  embryo  fruits  appear, 

The  hope  and  glory  of  the  rip'ning  year !  150 

The  mead  that  courts  the  scythe,  the  pastur'd  vale, 

And  garden'd  lawn,  their  breathing  sweets  exhale ; 

On  balmy  winds  a  cloud  of  fragrance  moves, 

And  floats  the  odours  of  a  thousand  groves. 

For  them,  young  summer  sheds  a  brighter  day,  155 

Matures  the  germe  with  his  prolific  ray ; 

With  prospects  cheers,  demands  more  stubborn  toil, 

And  pays  their  efforts  from  the  grateful  soil. 

The  lofty  maize  its  ears  luxuriant  yields; 

The  yellow  harvests  gild  the  laughing  fields,  160 

Extend  o'er  all  th'  interminable  plain, 

And  wave  in  grandeur  like  the  boundless  main. 

For  them,  the  flock  o'er  green  savannas  feeds : 

For  them,  high  prancing,  bound  the  playful  steeds: 

For  them,  the  heifers  graze  sequester'd  dales,  165 

Or  pour  white  nectar  in  the  brimming  pails : 

To  them,  what  time  the  hoary  frosts  draw  near, 

Ripe  autumn  brings  the  labours  of  the  year. 

To  nature's  sons,  how  fair  th'  autumnal  ev'n, 

The  fading  landscape,  and  impurpl'd  heav'n,  17Q 

As  from  their  fields  they  take  their  homeward  way, 

And  turn  to  catch  the  sun's  departing  ray ! 

What  streaming  splendours  up  the  skies  are  roll'd, 

Whose  colours  beggar  Tyrian  dyes  and  gold  1 

Till  night's  dun  curtains,  wide  o'er  all  display'd,  175 

Shroud  shad'wy  shapes  in.  melancholy  shade. 

Then  doubling  clouds  the  wintry  skies  deform  ; 
And,  wrapt  in  vapour,  comes  the  roaring  storm, 
With  snows  surcharg'd,  from  tops  of  mountains  sails, 
Loads  leafless  trees,  and  fills  the  whiten'd  vales.  180 

Then  desolation  strips  the  faded  plains ; 
Then  tyrant  death  o'er  vegetation  reigns : 
The  birds  of  heav'n  to  other  climes  repair, 
And  deep'ning  glooms  invade  the  turbid  air. 
Nor  then,  unjoyous,  winter's  rigours  come,  13J 

But  find  them  happy  and  content  with  home ; 
Their  gran'ries  fill'd — -the  task  of  culture  past — u 
Warm  at  their  fire,  they  hear  the  howling  blast, 


32  ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA. 

With  patt'ring  rain  and  snow,  or  driving  sleet, 

Rave  idly  loud,  and  at  their  window  beat :  190 

Safe  from  its  rage,  regardless  of  its  roar, 

In  vain  the  tempest  rattles  at  the  door — 

The  tame  brute  shelter 'd,  and  the  feather'd  brood 

From  them,  more  provident,  demand  their  food. 

'Tis  then  the  time  from  hoarding  cribs  to  feed  195 

The  ox  laborious,  and  the  noble  steed : 

'Tis  then  the  time  to  tend  the  bleating  fold, 

To  strow  with  litter,  and  to  fence  from  cold. 

The  cattle  fed — the  fuel  pil'd  within — 

At  setting  day  the  blissful  hours  begin:  200 

'Tis  then,  sole  owner  of  his  little  cot, 
The  farmer  feels  his  independent  lot ; 
Hears  with  the  crackling  blaze  that  lights  the  wall, 
The  voice  of  gladness  and  of  nature  call, 
Beholds  his  children  play,  their  mother  smile,  205 

And  tastes  with  them  the  fruit  of  summer's  toil. 

From  stormy  heav'n  's  the  mantling  clouds  unroll'd, 
The  sky  is  bright,  the  air  serenely  cold. 
The  keen  north-west,  that  heaps  the  drifted  snows, 
For  months  entire  o'er  frozen  regions  blows  :  210 

Man  braves  his  blast,  his  gelid  breath  inhales, 
And  feels  more  vig'rous  as  the  frost  prevails. 
Th'  obstructed  path,  beneath  the  frequent  tread, 
Yields  a  smooth  crystal  to  the  flying  steed. 
'Tis  then  full  oft,  in  arts  of  love  array'd,  215 

The  am'rous  stripling  courts  his  future  bride  ; 
And  oft,  beneath  the  broad  moon's  paler  day, 
The  village  pairs  ascend  the  rapid  sleigh  ; 
With  jocund  sounds  impel  th'  enliven 'd  steed — 
Say  ye,  who  know  their  joys,  the  lulling  speed,  220 

At  ev'ry  bridge  the  tributary  kiss ; 
Can  courtly  balls  exceed  their  rustic  bliss  ? 

But  different  ages  diff 'rent  joys  inspire, 
Where  friendly  circles  crowd  the  social  fire  : 
For  there  the  neighbours,  gath'ring  round  the  hearth,         223 
Indulge  in  tales,  news,  politics,  and  mirth  ; 
Nor  need  we  fear  th'  exhausted  fund  should  fail, 
While  garrulous  old  age  prolongs  the  tale, 


ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERIC  A.  33 

There  some  old  warrior,  grown  a  village  sage, 
Whose  locks  are  whiten 'd  with  the  frosts  of  age,  230 

While  life's  low  burning  lamp  renews  its  light, 
With  tales  heroic  shall  beguile  the  night ; 
Shall  tell  of  battles  fought,  of  feats  achiev'd, 
And  sufferings  ne'er  by  human  heart  conceiv'd ; 
Shall  tell  th'  adventures  of  his  early  life,  235 

And  bring  to  view  the  fields  of  mortal  strife ; 
What  time  the  matin  trump  to  battle  sings, 
And  on  his  steed  the  horseman  swiftly  springs, 
While  down  the  line  the  drum,  with  thund'ring  sound, 
Wakes  the  bold  soldier,  slumb'ring  on  the  ground ;  240 

Alarm'd  he  starts;  then  sudden  joins  his  band, 
Who,  rang'd  beneath  the  well-known  banner,  stand: 
Then  ensigns  wave,  and  signal  flags  unfurPd, 
Bid  one  great  soul  pervade  a  moving  world ; 
Then  martial  music's  all-inspiring  breath,  245 

With  dulcet  symphonies,  leads  on  to  death ; 
Lights  in  each  breast  the  living  beam  of  fame, 
Kindles  the  spai'k,  and  fans  the  kindled  flame  : 
Then  meets  the  stedfast  eye,  the  splendid  charms 
Of  prancing  steeds,  of  plumed  troops  and  arms :  250 

Reflected  sun-beams,  dazzling,  gild  afar 
The  pride,  the  pomp,  and  circumstance  of  war; 
Then  thick  as  hail-stones,  from  an  angry  sky, 
In  vollied  show'rs,  the  bolts  of  vengeance  fly ; 
Unnumber'cl  deaths,  promiscuous,  ride  the  air,  255 

While,  swift  descending,  with  a  frightful  glare, 
The  big  bomb  bursts ;  the  fragments  scatter'd  round, 
Beat  down  whole  bands,  and  pulverize  the  ground* 
Then  joins  the  closer  fight  on  Hudson's  banks; 
Troops  strive  with  troops ;  ranks,  bending,  press  on  ranks ;  260 
O'er  slipp'ry  plains  the  struggling  legions  reel ; 
Then  livid  lead  and  Bayonne's  glittering  steel, 
With  dark-red  wounds  their  mangled  bosoms  bore ; 
While  furious  coursers,  snorting  foam  and  gore, 
Bear  wild  their  riders  o'er  the  carnag'd  plain,  265 

And,  falling,  roll  them  headlong  on  the  slain. 
To  ranks  consum'd,  another  rank  succeeds  ; 
Fresh  victims  fall ;  afresh  the  battle  bleeds ; 
And  nought  of  blood  can  staunch  the  open'd  sluice, 
Till  night,  o'ershad'wing,  brings  a  grateful  truce.  2FO 

Thus  will  the  vet'ran  tell  the  tale  of  wars, 
Disclose  his  breast,  to  count  his  glorious  scars  j 
F 


S4  ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA. 

In  mute  amazement  hold  the  list'ning  swains ; 

Make  freezing  horror  creep  through  all  their  veins ; 

Or  oft,  at  freedom's  name,  their  souls  inspire  275 

With  patriot  ardour  and  heroic  fire. 

I  too,  perhaps,  should  heav'n  prolong  my  date, 
The  oft-repeated  tale  shall  oft  relate  ; 
Shall  tell  the  feelings  in  the  first  alarms, 
Of  some  bold  enterprize  th'  unequall'd  charms  j  280 

Shall  tell  from  whom  I  learnt  the  martial  art, 
With  what  high  chiefs  I  play'd  my  early  part ; 
With  Parsons  first,  whose  eye,  with  piercing  ken, 
Reads  through  their  hearts  the  characters  of  men ; 
Then  how  I  aided,  in  the  foll'wing  scene,  285 

Death-daring  Putnam — then  immortal  Greene — 
Then  how  great  Washington  my  youth  approv'd, 
In  rank  preferr'd,  and  as  a  parent  lov'd, 
(For  each  fine  feeling  in  his  bosom  blends 
The  first  of  heroes,  sages,  patriots,  friends)  390 

With  him  what  hours  on  warlike  plans  I  spent, 
Beneath  the  shadow  of  th'  imperial  tent ; 
With  him  how  oft  I  went  the  nightly  round, 
Through  moving  hosts,  or  slept  on  tented  ground ; 
From  him  how  oft  (nor  far  below  the  first  295 

In  high  behests  and  confidential  trust) 
From  him  how  oft  I  bore  the  dread  commands, 
Which  destin'd  for  the  fight  the  eager  bands : 
With  him  how  oft  I  pass'd  th'  eventful  day, 
Rode  by  his  side,  as  down  the  long  array  200 

His  awful  voice  the  columns  taught  to  form, 
To  point  the  thunders,  and  to  pour  the  storm. 
But,  thanks  to  heav'n  !   those  days  of  blood  are  o'er, 
The  trumpet's  clangour,  the  loud  cannon's  roar : 
No  more  advance  the  long  extended  lines,  305 

Front  form'd  to  front — no  more  the  battle  joins 
With  rushing  shock — th'  unsufFerable  sound 
Rends  not  the  skies-^-nor  blood  distains  the  ground— 
Nor  spread  through  peaceful  villages  afar, 
The  crimson  flames  of  desolating  war.  319 

No  more  this  hand,  since  happier  days  succeed, 
Waves  the  bright  blade,  or  reins  the  fiery  steed. 
No  more  for  martial  fame  this  bosom  burns, 
Now  white-rob 'd  peace  to  bless  a  world  returns ; 


ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA.  35 

Now  fost'ring  freedom  all  her  bliss  bestows,  315 

Unnumber'd  blessings  for  unnumber'd  woes. 

Revolving  seasons  thus  by  turns  invite 
To  rural  joys  and  conjugal  delight — 
Oh,  thou  sweet  passion,  whose  blest  charm  connects 
In  heav'n's  own  ties,  the  strong  and  feebler  sex!  320 

Shed  thy  soft  empire  o'er  the  willing  mind, 
Exhalt,  adorn,  and  purify  mankind ! 
All  nature  feels  thy  pow'r.     The  vocal  grove 
With  air-borne  melody  awakes  to  love  ; 

To  love  the  boldest  tenants  of  the  sky,  325 

To  love  the  little  birds,  extatic  fly ; 
To  love  submit  the  monsters  of  the  main, 
And  ev'ry  beast  that  haunts  the  desert  plain :  , 

But  man  alone  the  brightest  flame  inspires, 
A  spark  enkindled  from  celestial  fires.  330 

Hail,  hallow'd  wedlock  !  purest,  happiest  state, 
Thy  untry'd  raptures  let  my  song  relate  : 
Give  me,  ere  long,  thy  mysteries  to  prove, 
And  taste,  as  well  as  sing,  the  sweets  of  love  ! 

Ye  blooming  daughters  of  the  western  world,  335 

Whose  graceful  locks  by  artless  hands  are  curl'd, 
Whose  limbs  of  symmetry,  and  snowy  breast, 
Allure  to  love,  in  simple  neatness  drest ; 
Beneath  the  veil  of  modesty,  who  hide 

The  boast  of  nature,  and  of  virgin  pr jde — .  340 

(For  beauty  needs  no  meretricious  art 
To  find  a  passage  to  the  op'ning  heart) 
Oh,  make  your  charms  ev'n  in  my  song  admir'd, 
My  song  immortal  by  your  charms  inspir'd. 

Though  lavish  nature  sheds  each  various  grace,  345 

That  forms  the  figure,  or  that  decks  the  face — 
Though  health,  with  innocence,  and  glee  the  while, 
Dance  in  their  eye,  and  wanton  in  their  smile — 
Though  mid  the  lily's  white,  unfolds  the  rose, 
As  on  their  cheek  the  bud  of  beauty  blows,  350 

Spontaneous  blossom  of  the  transient  flush, 
Which  glows  and  reddens  to  a  scarlet  blush  ; 
What  time  the  maid,  unread  in  flames  and  darts, 
First  feels  of  love  the  palpitating  starts, 


S6  ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA. 

Feels  from  the  heart  life's  quicken 'd  currents  glide,  S55 

Her  bosom  heaving  with  the  bounding  tide — 

Though  sweet  their  lips,  their  features  more  than  fair — 

Though  curls  luxuriant  of  untortur'd  hair 

Grow  long,  and  add  unutterable  charms, 

While  ev'ry  look  enraptures  and  alarms  ;  360 

Yet  something  still,  beyond  th'  exterior  form, 

With  goodness  fraught,  with  animation  warm, 

Inspires  their  actions,  dignifies  their  mien, 

Gilds  ev'ry  hour,  and  beautifies  each  scene. 

'Tis  those  perfections  of  superior  kind,  365 

The  moral  beauties  which  adorn  the  mind  ; 

'Tis  those  enchanting  sounds  mellifluous  hung, 

In  words  of  truth  and  kindness,  on  their  tongue, 

'Tis  delicacy  gives  their  charms  new  worth, 

And  calls  the  loveliness  of  beauty  forth  :  370 

'Tis  the  mild  influence  beaming  from  their  eyes, 

Like  vernal  sun-beams  round  cosrulian  skies ; 

Bright  emanations  of  the  spotless  soul, 

Which  warm,  and  cheer,  and  vivify  the  whole  ! 

Here  the  fair  sex  an  equal  honour  claims,  375 

Wakes  chaste  desire,  nor  burns  with  lawless  flames : 
No  eastern  manners  here  consign  the  charms 
Of  beauteous  slaves  to  some  loath'd  master's  arms : 
No  lovely  maid  in  wedlock  e'er  was  sold 
By  parents  base,  for  mercenary  gold  ;  380 

Nor  forc'd  the  hard  alternative  to  try, 
To  live  dishonour'd,  or  with  hunger  die. 
Here,  uncontroul'd,  and  foll'wing  nature's  voice, 
The  happy  lovers  make  th'  unchanging  choice  ; 
While  mutual  passions  in  their  bosoms  glow,  385 

While  soft  confessions  in  their  kisses  flow, 
While  their  free  hands  in  plighted  faith  are  giv'n, 
Their  vows,  accordant,  reach  approving  heav'n. 

Nor  here  the  wedded  fair  in  splendour  vie 
To  shine  the  idols  of  the  public  eye  ;  390 

Nor  place  their  happiness,  like  Europe's  dames, 
In  balls  and  masquerades,  in  plays  and  games ; 
Each  home-felt  bliss  exchang'd  for  foreign  sports, 
A  round  of  pleasures,  or  th'  intrigues  of  coui'ts ; 
Nor  seek  of  government  to  guide  the  plan,  395 

And  wrest  his  bold  prerogatives  from  man. 


ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA.  37 

What  though  not  form'd  in  affectation's  school, 

Nor  taught  the  wanton  eye  to  roll  by  rule, 

Nor  how  to  prompt  the  glance,  the  frown,  the  smile, 

Or  practice  all  the  little  arts  of  guile —  400 

What  though  not  taught  the  use  of  female  arms, 

Nor  cloth'd  in  panoply  of  conqu'ring  charms, 

Like  some  fine  garnish 'd  heads — th'  exterior  fair, 

In  paints,  cosmetics,  powder,  borrow'd  hair : 

Yet  theirs  are  pleasures  of  a  d  iff 'rent  kind,  405 

Delights  at  home,  more  useful,  more  refin'd ; 

Theirs  are  th'  attentions,  theirs  the  smiles  that  please, 

With  hospitable  cares  and  modest  ease : 

Their  youthful  taste,  improv'd  by  finer  arts, 

Their  minds  embellish'd,  and  refin'd  their  hearts —  410 

'Tis  theirs  to  act,  in  still  sequester'd  life, 

The  glorious  parts  of  parent,  friend,  and  wife : 

What  nameless  grace,  what  unknown  charm  is  theirs, 

To  soothe  their  partners,  and  divide  their  cares, 

Calm  raging  pain,  delay  the  parting  breath,  415 

And  light  a  smile  on  the  wan  cheek  of  death  ! 

No  feudal  ties  the  rising  genius  mar, 
Compel  to  servile  toils  or  drag  to  war ; 
But  free  each  youth,  his  fav'rite  course  pursues, 
The  plough  paternal,  or  the  sylvan  muse  ;  420 

For  here  exists,  once  more,  th'  Arcadian  scene, 
Those  simple  manners,  and  that  golden  mean  : 
Here  holds  society  its  middle  stage, 
Between  too  rude  and  too  refin'd  an  age  : 
Far  from  that  age,  when  not  a  gleam  of  light  425 

The  dismal  darkness  cheer'd  of  Gothic  night, 
From  brutal  rudeness  of  that  savage  state — 
As  from  refinements  which  o'erwhelm  the  great, 
Those  dissipations  which  their  bliss  annoy, 
And  blast  and  poison  each  domestic  joy.  430 

What  though  for  us,  the  pageantry  of  kings, 
Crowns,  thrones,  and  sceptres,  are  superfluous  things ; 
What  though  we  lack  the  gaudy  pomp  that  waits 
On  eastern  monarchs,  or  despotic  states ; 
Yet  well  we  spare  what  realms  despotic  feel,  43$ 

Oppression's  scourge,  and  persecution's  wheel. 


ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA. 

What  though  no  splendid  spoils  of  other  times 
Invite  the  curious  to  these  western  climes ; 
No  virtuoso,  with  fantastic  aim, 

Here  hunts  the  shadow  of  departed  fame  :  440 

No  piles  ef  rubbish  his  attention  call, 
Nor  mystic  obelisk,  or  storied  wall : 
No  ruin'd  statues  claim  the  long  research : 
No  sliding  columns  and  no  crumbling  arch ; 
Inscriptions,  half  effac'd,  and  falsely  read,  445 

Or  cumbrous  relics  of  th'  unletter'd  dead : 
Yet  here  I  rove  untrodden  scenes  among, 
Catch  inspiration  for  my  rising  song ; 
See  nature's  grandeur  awfully  unfold, 

And,  wrapt  in  thought,  her  works  sublime  behold !  450 

For  here  vast  wilds,  which  human  foot  ne'er  trod, 
Are  mark'd  with  footsteps  of  a  present  God: 
His  forming  hand,  on  nature's  broadest  scale, 
O'er  mountains,  mountains  pil'd,  and  scoop'd  the  vale  ; 
Made  sea-like  streams  in  deeper  channels  run,  455 

And  roll'd  through  brighter  heav'ns  his  genial  sun. 
In  vain  of  day,  that  rolling  lucid  eye 
Look'd  down  in  mildness  from  the  smiling  sky ; 
In  vain,  the  germe  of  vegetation  lay, 

And  pin'd  in  shades,  secluded  from  the  day ;  460 

In  vain,  this  theatre  for  man  so  fair, 
Spread  all  its  charms  for  beasts  or  birds  of  air ; 
Or  savage  tribes,  who,  wand'ring  through  the  wood, 
From  beasts  and  birds  obtain'd  precarious  food  : 
Till  great  Columbus  rose,  and,  led  by  heav'n,  465 

CalPd  worlds  to  view,  beneath  the  skirts  of  ev'n. 

Now  other  scenes  in  these  blest  climes  prevail : 
The  sounds  of  population  fill  the  gale : 
The  dreary  wastes,  by  mighty  toils  reclaim 'd, 
Deep  marshes  drain'd,  wild  woods  and  thickets  tam'd:      470 
Now  fair  Columbia,  child  of  heav'n,  is  seen 
In  flow'r  of  youth,  and  robes  of  lovely  green, 
Than  virgin  fairer,  on  her  bridal  morn, 
Whom  all  the  graces,  all  the  loves  adorn, 

Here  planters  find  a  ceaseless  source  of  charms  475 

In  clearing  fields,  and  adding  farms  to  farms : 
'Tis  independence  prompts  their  daily  toil, 
And  calls  forth  beauties  from  the  desert  soil : 


ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA.  39 

What  untry'd  pleasure  fills  each  raptur'd  sense, 

When  sturdy  toil,  through  darken 'd  wilds  immense,        480 

First  pours  the  day-beams  on  the  op'ning  glade, 

And  glebes  embrown'd  with  everlasting  shade  ! 

Here  equal  fortunes,  ease,  the  ground  their  own, 

Augment  their  numbers  with  increase  unknown. 

Here  hamlets  grow.     Here  Europe's  pilgrims  come,  485 

From  vassall'd  woes  to  find  a  quiet  home. 

The  eye  no  view  of  waning  cities  meets, 

Of  mould'ring  domes,  of  narrow,  fetid  streets  ; 

Of  grey-hair'd  wretches,  who  ne'er  own'd  a  shed, 

And  beggars  dying  for  the  want  of  bread :  490 

But  oft,  in  transport,  round  th'  horizon  roves, 

O'er  mountains,  vallies,  towns,  and  stately  groves ; 

Then  dwells,  best  pleas'd,  on  cultivated  plains, 

Steeds,  flocks,  and  herds,  commix'd  with  lab'ring  swains. 

Hail,  agriculture !  by  whose  parent  aid  495 

The  deep  foundations  of  our  states  are  laid; 
The  seeds  of  greatness  by  thy  hand  are  sown  ; 
These  shall  mature  with  thee  and  time  alone  ; 
But  still  conduct  us  on  thy  sober  plan, 
Great  source  of  wealth,  and  earliest  friend  of  man.  500 

Ye  rev'rend  fathers !  props  of  freedom's  cause, 
Who  rear'd  an  empire  by  your  sapient  laws, 
With  blest  example  give  this  lesson  weight, 
"  That  toil  and  virtue  make  a  nation  great!" 
Then  shall  your  names  reach  earth's  remotest  clime,         505 
Rise  high  as  heav'n,  and  brave  the  rage  of  time — 
His  list'ning  sons  the  sire  shall  oft  remind, 
What  parent  sages  first  in  Congress  join 'd : 
The  faithful  Hancock  grac'd  that  early  scene, 
Great  Washington  appear'd  in  godlike  mien,  5JO 

Jay,  Laurens,  Clinton,  skill'd  in  ruling  men, 
And  he  who,  earlier,  held  the  farmer's  pen. 
'Twas  Lee,  illustrious,  at  the  father's  head, 
The  daring  way  to  independence  led. 

The  self-taught  Sherman  urg'd  his  reasons  clear,  515 

And  all  the  Livingstons  to  freedom  dear : 
What  countless  names  in  fair  procession  throng, 
With  Rutledge,  Johnson,  Nash,  demand  the  song ! 
And  chiefly  ye,  of  human  kind  the  friends, 
Os  whose  high  task  iny  humbler  toil  attends :  520 


40  ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA, 

Ye  who,  uniting  realms  in  leagues  of  peace, 

The  sum  of  human  happiness  increase  ! 

Adams,  the  sage,  a  patriot  from  his  youth, 

Whose  deeds  are  honour,  and  whose  voice  is  truth  ; 

Undying  Franklin,  on  the  hill  of  fame,  525 

Who  bids  the  thunders  spread  his  awful  name ; 

And  Jeflerson,  whose  mind  with  space  extends, 

Each  science  woos,  all  knowledge  comprehends, 

Whose  patriot  deeds  and  elevated  views 

Demand  the  tribute  of  a  loftier  muse :  530 

Though  Randolph,  Hosmer,  Hanson  sleep  in  death, 

Still  these  great  patriots  draw  the  vital  breath  : 

And  can  a  nation  fail  in  peace  to  thrive, 

Where  such  strong  talents,  such  high  worth  Survive  ? 

Rous'd  at  the  thought,  by  vast  ideas  fir'd,  535 

His  breast  enraptur'd,  and  his  tongue  inspir'd, 

Another  bard,*  in  conscious  genius  bold, 

Sings  the  new  world  now  happier  than  the  old. 

Thou  Spirit  of  the  West,  assert  our  fame, 
In  other  bards  awake  the  dormant  flame  I  540 

Bid  vivid  colours  into  being  start, 
Men  grow  immortal  by  the  plastic  art ! 
Bid  columns  swell,  stupendous  arches  bend, 
Proud  cities  rise,  and  spires  sublime  ascend  ! 
Bid  music's  pow'r  the  pangs  of  woe  assuage  !  545 

With  nobler  views  inspire  th'  enlighten'd  age  J 
In  freedom's  voice  pour  all  thy  bolder  charms, 
Till  reason  supersede  the  force  of  arms, 
Till  peaceful  streamers  in  each  gale  shall  play, 
From  orient  morning  to  descending  day.  j>50> 

In  mortal  breasts  shall  hate  immortal  last ! 
Albion !  Columbia !  soon  forget  the  past ! 
In  friendly  intercourse  your  int'rests  blend  J 
From  common  sires  your  gallant  sons  descend ; 
From  free-born  sires  in  toils  of  empire  brave —  555 

'Tis  yours  to  heal  the  mutual  wounds  ye  gave  ; 
Let  those  be  friends  whom  kindred  blood  allies, 
With  language,  laws',  religion's  holiest  ties  ! 
Yes,  mighty  Albion  !  scorning  low  intrigues, 
With  young  Columbia  form  commercial  leagues :  560 


*  Mr.  Barlow,  author  ef  the  Vijion  of  Columbus. 


ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA.  41 

So  shall  mankind,  through  endless  years,  admire 
More  potent  realms  than  Carthage  leagu'd  with  Tyre. 

Where  lives  the  nation,  fraught  with  such  resource, 
Such  vast  materials  for  a  naval  force  ? 
Where  grow  so  rife,  the  iron,  masts,  and  spars,  565 

The  hemp,  the  timber,  and  the  daring  tars  ? 
Where  gallant  youths,  inur'd  to  heat  and  cold, 
Through  every  zone,  more  hardy,  strong,  and  bold  ? 
Let  other  climes  of  other  produce  boast ; 
Let  gold,  let  diamonds,  grow  on  India's  coast :  570 

Let  flaming  suns  from  arid  plains  exhale 
The  spicy  odours  of  Arabia's  gale  : 
Let  fragant  shrubs,  that  bloom  in  regions  calm, 
Perfumes  expiring,  bleed  ambrosial  balm : 
Let  olives  flourish  in  Hesperia's  soil,  575 

Ananas  ripen  in  each  tropic  isle  : 
Let  Gallia  gladden  in  her  clust'ring  vines  ; 
Let  Spain  exuit  in  her  Peruvian  mines : 
Let  plains  of  Barb'ry  boast  the  generous  steed, 
Far-fam'd  for  beauty,  strength,  and  matchless  speed :       580 
But  men,  Columbia,  be  thy  fairer  growth, 
Men  of  firm  nerves,  who  spurn  at  fear  and  sloth ; 
Men  of  high  courage,  like  their  sires  of  old, 
In  labour  patient,  as  in  dangers  bold  ! 

Then  wake,  Columbia !  daughter  of  the  skies,  585 

Awake  to  glory,  and  to  greatness  rise  ! 
Arise  and  spread  thy  virgin  charms  abroad, 
Thou  last,  thou  fairest  offspring  of  a  God ; 
Extend  thy  view  where  future  blessings  lie, 
And  ope  new  prospects  for  th'  enraptur'd  eye  !  590 

See  a  new  sera  on  this  globe  begun, 
And  circling  years  in  brighter  orbits  run  ; 
See  the  fair  dawn  of  universal  peace, 
When  hell-born  discord  through  the  world  shall  cease  ! 
Commence  the  task  assign'd  by  heaven's  decree,  595 

From  pirate  rage  to  vindicate  the  sea ! 

Bid  thy  live,  oaks,  in  southern  climes  that  grow, 
And  pines,  that  shade  the  northern  mountain's  brow, 
In  mighty  pomp  descending  on  the  main, 
With  sails  expanded,  sweep  the  watery  plain :  600 

G 


42  ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA. 

Thy  rising  stars  in  unknown  skies  display, 
And  bound  thy  labours  with  the  walks  of  day. 

Bid  from  the  shore  a  philanthropic  band, 
The  torch  of  science  glowing  in  their  hand, 
O'er  trackless  waves  extend  their  daring  toils,  605 

To  find  and  bless  a  thousand  peopled  isles ; 
Not  lur'd  to  blood  by  domination's  lust, 
The  pride  of  conquest,  or  of  gold  the  thirst ; 
Not  arm'd  by  impious  zeal  with  burning  brands, 
To  scatter  flames  and  ruin  round  their  strands  ;  610 

Bid  them  to  wilder'd  men  new  lights  impart, 
Heav'n's  noblest  gifts,  with  every  useful  art. 

Bid  thy  young  sons,  whom  toil  for  glory  forms, 
New  skill  acquiring,  learn  to  brave  the  storms, 
To  ev'ry  region  thy  glad  harvest  bear —  615 

Where  happy  nations  breathe  a  milder  air  ; 
Or  where  the  natives  feel  the  scorching  ray, 
And  pant  and  faint  beneath  a  flood  of  day ; 
Or  through  those  seas  where  mounts  of  ice  arise, 
Th'  eternal  growth  of  hyperborean  skies,  620 

Where  feeble  rayless  suns  obliquely  roll, 
Or  one.  long  night  invests  the  frozen  pole. 

Then  bid  thy  northern  train,  who  draw  the  line, 
In  ocean's  caverns  find  a  richer  mine 

Than  fam'd  Potosi's  or  Golconda's  ore,  625 

Or  all  the  treasures  of  the  Asian  shore. 
Bid  them  with  hooks  delusive  ply  the  flood, 
And  feed  whole  kingdoms  with  the  finny  brood. 

-   And  bid  thy  youths  $  whose  brawny  limbs  are  strung 

For  bolder  toils,  pursue  those  toils  unsung —  630 

Pursue  through  foreign  seas,  with  vent'rous  sail, 

The  dreadful  combat  of  th'  enormous  whale : 

Lo,  where  he  comes,  the  foaming  billows  rise  1 

See  spouted  torrents  cloud  the  misty  skies ; 

See  in  the  skiff  the  bold  harpooner  stand,  635 

The  murd'ring  iron  in  his  skilful  hand : 

From  him  alone  th'  attentive  youths  await 

A  joyful  vict'ry,  or  a  mournful  fate : 

His  meas'ring  eye  the  distance  now  explores, 

His  voice  now  checks,  and  now  impels  the  oars :  640 


ON  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  AMERICA.  43 

The  panting  crew  a  solemn  silence  keep, 

Stillness  and  horror  hover  o'er  the  deep : 

Now  nigh  he  kens  a  vulnerable  part. 

And  hurls  with  deadly  aim  the  barbed  dart ; 

The  wounded  monster,  plunging  through  th'  abyss,  645 

Makes  uncoil'd  cords  in  boiling  waters  hiss  ; 

And  oft  the  boat,  drawn  headlong  down  the  wave, 

Leads  trembling  seamen  to  their  wat'ry  grave ; 

And  oft,  when  rising,  on  his  back  upborne, 

Is  dash'd  on  high,  in  countless  pieces  torn.  650 

But  now  afar  see  ocean's  monarch  rise, 

O'er  troubled  billows  see  how  fast  he  flies, 

And  drags  the  feeble  skiff  along  the  flood, 

Lash'd  into  foam,  and  colour'd  red  with  blood  I 

At  length  subsides  the  elemental  strife,  655 

His  rage  exhausted  with  his  ebbing  life ; 

As  tow'rs  a  rock  on  some  sky-circled  plain, 

So  looms  his  carcase  o'er  the  dusky  main. 

Elate,  the  victors  urge  the  added  toil, 

Extract  the  bone,  and  fill  their  ship  with  oil.  660 

Fraught  with  the  germe  of  wealth,  our  seamen  roam 
To  foreign  marts,  and  bring  new  treasures  home  ; 
From  either  Ind'  and  Europe's  happier  shore, 
Th'  assembled  produce  crowds  the  merchant's  store : 
From  east  to  west  the  fruits  and  spices  sweet,  665 

On  our  full  boards  in  rich  profusion  meet ; 
Canary  isles  their  luscious  vintage  join  ; 
In  crystal  goblets  flows  the  amber  wine ; 
European  artists  send  their  midnight  toil 
For  crude  materials  of  our  virgin  soil ;  670 

For  us,  in  tissue  of  the  silken  loom, 
The  lilacs  blush,  the  damask  roses  bloom  ; 
For  us  in  distant  mines  the  metals  grow, 
Prolific  source  of  pleasure,  care,  and  woe  ! 
Ne'er  may  our  sons  for  heaps  of  useless  wealth,  675 

Exchange  the  joys  of  freedom,  peace,  or  health, 
But  make  e'en  riches  to  their  weal  conduce, 
And  prize  their  splendour  by  their  public  use  \ 


A 

POEM 

ON   THE 

FUTURE    GLORY 


AMERICA. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

AMERICA,  after  having  been  concealed  for  so  many  ages  from 
the  rest  of  the  world,  was  probably  discovered,  in  the  maturity  of 
time,  to  become  the  theatre  for  displaying  the  illustrious  designs  of 
Providence,  in  its  dispensations  to  the  human  race.  These  States 
arose  from  the  condition  of  colonies  to  that  of  an  independent  na 
tion,  at  an  epocha,  and  under  circumstances  singularly  favourable 
for  improvement.  Previous  to  our  revolution,  though  refinements 
and  luxuries  had  made  but  little  progress,  useful  education  had 
been  cultivated  with  care,  valuable  inventions  had  been  multiplied, 
and  arts  and  sciences  were  in  a  flourishing  state.  In  giving  a  scope 
to  the  exertion  of  their  faculties,  the  inhabitants  of  the  United  States 
had,  perhaps,  fewer  obstacles  to  impede  their  proficiency  than  the 
people  of  any  other  country.  There  existed  among  them  no  pri 
vileged  orders,  no  predominant  religion,  no  discouragement  to  in 
dustry,  and  no  exclusion  from  office.  Wide  was  the  field  that  was 
opened  before  them  for  the  range  of  the  human  mind.  They  pos 
sessed  the  advantage  of  having  in  view  the  whole  history  of  man 
kind,  to  warn  them  against  the  dangers,  and  to  save  them  from 
the  calamities  to  which  other  nations  had  been  exposed.  The  ex 
amples  of  the  wise,  the  brave,  and  the  good  were  not  wanting  to 
awaken  their  emulation.  They  had  an  opportunity  of  profiting  in 
every  thing,  by  th^  experience  of  all  who  had  preceded  them. 

Since  the  conclusion  of  our  revolutionary  war,  the  extraordinary 
prosperity*  of  the  United  States  has  surpassed  the  most  sanguine 
expectation.  If  the  past  is  to  furnish  any  criterion  for  forming  a 
judgment  of  the  future,  we  are  undoubtedly  destined,  as  a  nation, 
to  advance  with  large  and  rapid  strides  towards  the  summit  of  na 
tional  aggrandisement.  Fully  persuaded  of  the  magnitude  of  the 
blessings  which  await  us  there,  the  writer  wishes  to  impress  the 
same  conviction  on  the  minds  of  his  fellow  citizens.  Because,  he 
thinks,  a  confidence  in  the  future  felicity  and  glory  of  their  coun 
try  will  operate  usefully  in  nourishing  principles  and  producing 
actions  sublime  and  splendid  as  their  destinies.  He  doubts  not  then 
that  he  shall  be  pardoned  by  his  countrymen  for  thus  venturing  to 
explore  for  them  \h&  field  of  futurity  ;  and  he  hopes  the  critics 
will  not  be  offended  by  the  excursion,  when  they  recollect  that  it 
has  ever  been  reputed  poetic  ground  ;  for  they  cannot  but  remem 
ber  the  poet  and  the  prophet  have  been  considered  so  intimately 
blended  together,  that  a  common  name  (at  least  in  one  language) 

*  Sec  the  annexed  Table. 


48  ADVERTISEMENT. 

was  expressive  of  both.  To  facts  we  can  appeal  for  proof,  that 
our  most  flattering  anticipations  have  been  realised  at  an  earlier 
period  than  we  had  fixed.  The  subsequent  table  of  comparative 
advancement  in  numbers  and  resources,  will,  it  may  fairly  be  ex 
pected,  shelter  us  in  future  from  such  ridicule  as  one  British  re 
view  attempted  heretofore  to  throw  on  American  writers  for  their 
propensity  to  poetical  predictions. 

When  the  author  composed  the  description  of  the  process  of  in 
dustry  in  creating  a  navy,  not  one  armed  vessel  belonged  to  the 
government,  or  any  individual  in  the  United  States.  It  will  be  seen 
from  the  schedule  to  which  reference  has  been  made,  what  a  num 
ber  of  vessels  of  war  (exclusive  of  armed  merchantmen)  the  little 
intervening  time  has  produced.  From  thence  the  uncommon  ca 
pacity  of  a  country  possessed  of  such  resources,  with  such  exer 
tion  for  building,  aptitude  for  navigating,  and  enterprize  for  employ 
ing  its  navigation,  may  be  readily  calculated.  Nor  less  important 
data  have  we  for  calculating  the  great  changes  indicative  of  acti 
vity,  energy,  and  perseverance,  which  must  succeed  upon  the  land. 

There  are  now  several  independent  States  (which  have  been  ad 
mitted  as  members  of  the  union)  established  in  those  very  western 
regions,  which  the  author,  in  a  poem  written  during  the  course  of 
our  revolution,  predicted  would  be  speedily  settled  under  the  most 
happy  auspices,  and  where,  at  the  time  when  C.\e  prediction  was 
published,  there  existed  not  one  single  white  inhabitant.  The  con 
templation  of  such  numerous  and  unparalleled  instances  of  prospe 
rity  cannot  fail  to  furnish  our  citizens  with  increasing  motives 
of  praise  and  adoration  to  the  Omnipotent,  who  has  thus  distin 
guished  them  by  his  mercies.  And  such  instances  ought  not  less 
to  silence  the  scoffs  of  those  foreigners  who  affected  to  believe  that 
nothing  but  degradation  and  misery  would  result  from  our  inde 
pendence.  If  they  still  entertain  similar  sentiments,  let  them  ex 
amine  the  documents  which  attest  the  rapid  growth  of  our  popu 
lation  and  improvement.  Or,  if  it  be  practicable,  let  them  take  a 
nearer  view  of  the  sources  of  our  augmenting  wealth  and  strength. 
Whoever  shall  live  a  few  years  longer,  may  doubtless  behold,  on 
that  continent,  still  greater  progress  in  whatever  can  adorn  or 
console  human  nature.  Who  can  hesitate  to  believe  we  are  now 
competent  to  the  defence  of  our  country  in  every  conceivable 
crisis  ?  Should  the  United  States  be  attacked,  the  writer  is  firmly 
persuaded  that  he  would  see  himself  associated  with  nearly  one 
million  of  his  countrymen  in  arms,  determined  to  maintain  their 
rights,  or  perish  in  the  attempt. 


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ARGUMENT. 

Address  to  my  soul  to  explore  the  future  fortunes  of  the  United 
States,  which  are  destined  to  experience  many  trials  and  adversi 
ties  in  our  progress  to  national  felicity  and  glory— our  commerce 
interrupted  by  the  Algerines — sensation  produced  by  it  in  the 
Americans— invocation  for  powers  of  expression  to  excite  them, 
to  revenge — a  -view  of  the  miseries  of  the  prisoners,  which  ter 
minates  in  an  anathema  on  the  perpetrators  of  such  cruelties — 
friends  of  the  captives  and  ruined  merchants,  how  affected—' 
exhortation  to  arm  unless  an  equitable  peace  can  be  obtained— 
apostrophe  to  the  tributary  powers — resolution  to  be  taken  by 
us— our  resources  hinted,  from  a  glance  at  the  last  war — Great- 
Britain  and  Algiers  contrasted — prayer  to  the  Supreme  Being 
— an  army  raised — a  navy  formed — naval  combat  with  the 
corsairs — their  defeat — their  woe — utter  destruction  of  their 
country — return  and  rejoicings  of  the  victors— when  depreda 
tions  shall  be  committed  by  the  piratical  privateers  of  other 
nations,  the  American  Government  is  to  assume  an  attitude  of 
defence — in  the  mean  time  is  exhibited  a  view  of  our  danger 
from  anarchy— establishment  of  a  more  efficient  government — 
true  liberty  extended  through  the  west — improvement  in  forti 
fications,  highways,  and  inland  navigation — the  new  city  of 
Washington  built  for  the  permanent  residence  of  the  Federal 
Government — our  country  an  asylum  for  the  oppressed  of  all 
nations — Columbia  congratulated  on  her  natural  and  moral 
blessings,  which  are  the  harbingers  of  freedom  to  other  coun 
tries — wars  which  must  first  arise,  together  with  the  horrors 
of  the  French  Pentarchy — this  epocha  succeeded  by  a  prospect 
of  peace,  and  the  amelioration  of  the  human  condition,  until 
the  consummation  of  all  things. 


A  POEM 


OX  THE 

FUTURE  GLORY 

OF    THE 

UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA. 


JLvISE  now,  my  soul !  intelligence  refin'd ! 

Ethereal  efflux  of  th'  eternal  mind  ! 

Rise,  in  immortal  youth  and  vigour  fresh, 

Expand  thy  vision  unobscur'd  by  flesh  ; 

On  rapture's  plume,  with  boundless  flight,  explore  5 

Our  prospect  opening  and  our  bliss  in  store  ! 

What  though  our  state,  in  untried  prime,  appears 

A  freighted  vessel  on  the  flood  of  years  ; 

Though  unknown  perils,  tempests,  foes  and  shelves 

Surround,  and  factions  rise  amidst  ourselves ;  10 

Though  worlds  combin'd,  or  adverse  fates  annoy, 

What  but  disunion  can  our  bliss  destroy  ? 

Though  many  a  dubious  day  and  dismal  scene, 

Ere  our  probation  cease,  must  intervene ; 

Beyond  these  glooms  what  brighter  days  appear,  15 

Where  dawns  on  mortals  heav'n's  millennial  year  ! 

In  western  wilds  what  scenes  of  grandeur  rise, 

As  unborn  ages  crowd  upon  my  eyes  ! 

A  better  ajra  claims  its  destin'd  birth, 

And  heav'n  descending  dwells  with  man  on  earth.  20 

While  our  brave  youth  through  various  seas  afar, 
In  toils  of  peace  inure  their  nerves  for  war, 
See  what  dark  prospect  interrupts  our  joy  ! 
What  arm  presumptuous  dares  our  trade  annoy"? 
Great  God !  the  rovers  who  infest  thy  waves  2$ 

Have  seiz'd  our  ships,  and  made  our  freemen  slaves : 
And  hark  !  the  cries  of  that  disastrous  band 
float  o'er  the  main>  and  reach  Columbia's  strand-* 


The  wild  alarm  from  ocean  spreads  around, 

And  circling  echoes  propagate  the  sound,  SO 

From  smooth  Saluda,  fed  with  silver  rills, 

Up  the  Blue-Ridge,  o'er  Alleghanean  hills, 

To  where  Niagara  tremendous  roars, 

As  o'er  white-sheeted  rocks  his  torrent  pours  ; 

(The  dreadful  cataract  whole  regions  shakes  3^ 

Of  boundless  woods,  and  congregated  lakes  !) 

To  fai'thest  Kennebeck,  adown  whose  tide 

The  future  ships,  unfashion'd,  monstrous  glide, 

On  whose  rough  banks,  where  stood  the  savage  den, 

The  axe  is  heard,  and  busy  hum  of  men —  40 

But  hark  !  their  labours  and  their  accents  cease, 

A  warning  voice  has  interdicted  peace  ; 

Has  spread  through  cities,  gain'd  remotest  farms, 

And  fir'd  th'  indignant  States  with  new  alarms : 

The  sickly  flame  in  ev'ry  bosom  burns,  45 

Like  gloomy  torches  in  sepulchral  urns4 

Why  sleep'st  thou,  Barlow,  child  of  genius  ?  why 
See'st  thou,  blest  Dwight,  our  land  in  sadness  lie  ? 
And  where  is  Trumbull,  earliest  boast  of  fame  ? 
'Tis  yours,  ye  bards,  to  wake  the  smother'd  flame-—  50 

To  you,  my  dearest  friends  !  the  task  belongs 
To  rouse  your  country  with  heroic  songs  ; 
For  me,  though  glowing  with  conceptions  warm, 
I  find  no  equal  words  to  give  them  form  : 
Pent  in  my  breast,  the  madd'ning  tempest  raves,  5$ 

Like  prison'd  fires  in  ^Etna's  burning  caves ; 
For  me  why  will  no  thund'ring  numbers  roll  ? 
Why,  niggard  language,  dost  thou  balk  my  soul  ? 
Come  thou  sweet  feeling  of  another's  woe, 
That  mak'st  the  heart  to  melt,  the  eye  to  flow  !  60 

Deep-stinging  sensibility  of  wrong, 
Aid  indignation,  and  inspire  my  song  ! 
Teach  me  curst  slav'ry's  cruel  woes  to  paint, 
Beneath  whose  weight  our  captur'd  freemen  faint  [ 
Teach  me  in  shades  of  Stygian  night  to  trace,  65 

In  characters  of  hell,  the  pirate  race  ! 
Teach  me,  prophetic,  to  disclose  their  doom — 
A  new-born  nation  trampling  on  their  tomb  ! 

What  mortal  terrors  all  my  senses  seize, 
Possess  my  heart,  and  life's  warm  current  freeze  ?  79 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  55 

Why  grow  my  eyes  with  thick  suffusions  dim  ? 

What  visionary  forms  before  me  swim  ? 

Where  am  I  ?  Heav'ns  I  what  mean  these  dol'rous  ciies  ? 

And  what  these  horrid  scenes  that  round  me  rise  ? 

Heard  ye  the  groans,  those  messengers  of  pain  ?  75 

Heard  ye  the  clanking  of  the  captive's  chain  ? 

Heard  ye  your  free-born  sons  their  fate  deplore, 

Pale  in  their  chains  and  lab'ring  at  the  oar  ? 

Saw  ye  the  dungeon,  in  whose  blackest  cell, 

That  house  of  woe,  your  friends,  your  children  dwell  ?       80 

Or  saw  ye  those,  who  dread  the  tort'ring  hour, 

Crush'd  by  the  rigours  of  a  tyrant's  pow'r  ? 

Saw  ye  the  shrinking  slave,  th'  uplifted  lash, 

The  frowning  butcher,  and  the  redd'ning  gash  ? 

Saw  ye  the  fresh  blood  where  it  bubbling  broke,  85 

From  purple  scars,  beneath  the  grinding  stroke  ? 

Saw  ye  the  naked  limbs  writh'd  to  and  fro, 

In  wild  contortions  of  convulsing  woe  ? 

Felt  ye  the  blood,  with  pangs  alternate  roll'd, 

Thrill  through  your  veins  and  freeze  with  death-like  cold,   90 

Or  fire,  as  down  the  tear  of  pity  stole, 

Your  manly  breasts,  and  harrow  up  the  soul ! 

Some  guardian  pow'r  in  mercy  intervene, 
Hide  from  my  dizzy  eyes  the  cruel  scene  ! 
Oh,  stop  the  shrieks  that  tear  my  tortur'd  ear  !  95 

Ye  visions,  vanish !  dungeons,  disappear ! 
Ye  fetters,  burst !  ye  monsters  fierce,  avaunt ! 
Infernal  furies  on  those  monsters  haunt ! 
Pursue  the  foot-steps  of  that  miscreant  crew, 
Pursue  in  flames,  with  hell-born  rage  pursue  I  100 

Shed  such  dire  curses  as  all  utt 'ranee  mock, 
Whose  plagues  astonish  and  whose  horrors  shock  ! 
Great  maledictions  of  eternal  wrath, 
Which,  like  heav'n's  vial'd  vengeance,  singe  and  scathe, 
Transfix  with  scorpion  stings  the  callous  heart,  105 

Make  blood-shot  eye-balls  from  their  sockets  start ! 
For  balm,  pour  brimstone  in  their  wounded  soul ; 
Then  ope,  perdition  !  and  ingulf  them  Avhole  ! 

How  long  will  heav'n  restrain  its  bursting  ire, 
Nor  rain  blue  tempests  of  devouring  fire  ?  110 

How  long  shall  widows  weep  their  sons  in  vain, 
The  prop  of  years,  in  slav'ry's  iron  chain  ? 


How  long  the  love-sick  maid,  unheeded,  rove 

The  sounding  shore,  and  call  her  absent  love  ; 

With  wasting  fears  and  sighs  his  lot  bewail,  115 

And  seem  to  see  him  in  each  coming  sail  ? 

How  long  the  merchant  turn  his  failing  eyes, 

In  desperation,  on  the  seas  and  skies, 

And  ask  his  captur'd  ships,  his  ravish'd  goods, 

With  frantic  ravings,  of  the  heav'ns  and  floods  ?  120 

How  long,  Columbians  dear !  will  ye  complain 
Of  wrongs  unpunish'd  on  the  midland  main? 
In  timid  sloth  shall  injur'd  brav'ry  sleep  ? 
Awake  !  awake  !  avengers  of  the  deep  ! 
Revenge  !  revenge  !  the  voice  of  nature  cries  ;  125 

Awake  to  glory,  and  to  vengeance  rise  ! 
To  arms !  to  arms  !  ye  bold,  indignant  bands ! 
'Tis  Heav'n  inspires,  'tis  God  himself  commands  : 
Save  human  nature  from  such  deadly  harms, 
By  force  of  reason,  or  by  force  of  arms.  13d 

Oh  ye  great  pow'rs,  who  passports  basely  Crave 
From  Afric's  lords,  to  sail  the  midland  wave — 
Great  fallen  pow'rs,  whose  gems  and  golden  bribes 
Buy  paltry  passports  from  these  savage  tribes  ! 
Ye,  whose  fine  pm*ples,  silks,  and  stuffs  of  gold,  135 

(An  annual  tribute)  their  dark  limbs  infold— 
Ye,  whose  mean  policy  for  them  equips, 
To  plague  mankind,  the  predatory  ships — 
Why  will  ye  buy  your  infamy  so  dear  ? 

Is  it  self-int'rest,  or  a  dastard  fear  ?  140 

Is  it  because  you  meanly  think  to  gain 
A  richer  commerce  on  the  th'  infested  main  ? 
Is  it  because  you  meanly  wish  to  see 
Your  rivals  chain 'd,  yourselves  ignobly  free  ? 
Who  gave  commission  to  these  monsters  fierce  145 

To  hold  in  chains  the  humbled  universe  ? 
Would  God,  would  nature,  would  their  conqu'ring  swords, 
Without  your  meanness,  make  them  ocean's  lords  ? 
What !  do  ye  fear  ?  nor  dare  their  pow'r  provoke  ? 
Would  not  that  bubble  burst  beneath  your  stroke  ?  150 

And  shall  the  weak  remains  of  barb'rous  rage, 
Insulting,  triumph  o'er  th'  enlighten'd  age  ? 
Do  ye  not  feel  confusion,  horror,  shame, 
To  bear  a  hateful,  tributary  name  ? 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  SS 

Will  ye  not  aid  to  wipe  the  foul  disgrace,  155 

And  break  the  fetters  from  the  human  race  ? 

Then,  though  unaided  by  these  mighty  pow'rs, 
Ours  be  the  toil ;  the  danger,  glory  curs : 
Then,  oh  my  friends !  by  heav'n  ordain'd  to  free 
From  tyrant  rage,  the  long-infested  sea —  160 

Then  let  us  firm,  though  solitary,  stand, 
The  sword  and  olive-branch  in  either  hand : 
An  equal  peace  propose  with  reason's  voice, 
Or  rush  to  arms,  if  arms  should  be  their  choice. 

Stung  by  their  crimes,  can  aught  your  vengeance  stay  ?    165 
Can  terror  daunt  you  ?  or  can  death  dismay  ? 
The  scul  enrag'd,  can  threats,  can  tortures  tame, 
Or  the  dank  dungeon  quench  th'  ethereal  flame  ? 
Have  ye  not  once  to  heav'n 's  dread  throne  appeal'd, 
And  has  not  heav'n  your  independence  seal'd  ?  1~0 

What  was  the  pow'r  ye  dar'd  that  time  engage, 
And  brave  the  terrors  of  its  hostile  rage  ? 
Was  it  not  Britain,  great  in  warlike  toils, 
The  first  of  nations,  as  the  queen  of  isles  ? 
Britain,  whose  fleets,  that  rul'd  the  briny  surge,  175 

Made  navies  tremble  to  its  utmost  verge ; 
Whose  single  arm  held  half  the  world  at  odds, 
Great  nurse  of  sages,  bards  and  demi-gods! 
But  what  are  these,  whose  threat'nings  round  you  burst  ? 
Of  men  the  dregs,  the  feeblest,  vilest,  worst:  180 

These  are  the  pirates  from  the  Barb'ry  strand, 
Audacious  miscreants,  fierce,  yet  feeble  band  1 
WTio,  impious,  dare  (no  provocation  giv'i») 
Insult  the  rights  of  man — the  laws  of  heav'n ! 

Wilt  thou  not  rise,  oh  God,  to  plead  our  cause,  185 

Assert  thine  honour,  and  defend  thy  laws ! 
Wilt  thou  not  bend  the  highest  heav'ns  to  hear 
The  pris'ner's  cry,  and  stop  the  falling  tear  I 
Wilt  thou  not  strike  the  guilty  race  with  dread, 
On  impious  realms  thy  tenfold  fury  shed  !  190 

Oh  thou  Most  High,  be  innocence  thy  care, 
Oh,  make  thy  red  right  arm  of  vengeance  bare ! 
Resume,  in  wrath,  the  thunders  thou  hast  hurl'd 
To  blight  the  tenants  of  the  nether  world ! 


5(5 

Thou  God  of  hosts,  our  stedfast  councils  guide,  195 

Lead  forth  our  arms,  and  crush  the  sons  of  pride  ! 

And  could  that  gallant  race,  of  glorious  name, 
Whose  infant  deeds,  immortaliz'd  by  fame, 
Fix'd  freedom's  reign  beyond  the  western  waves, 
Consent  their  sons  and  brothers  shall  be  slaves  ?  200 

But  not  for  this — in  Albion's  angry  hour 
Ye  dar'd  the  vengeance  of  unfeeling  pow'r ; 
In  many  a  field  repelPd  the  stronger  foe, 
And  rose  to  greatness  from  the  depth  of  woe : 
But  not  for  this — the  flame  of  freedom  ran  205 

From  breast  to  breast,  and  man  electriz'd  man  ; 
Your  senate  walls,  with  patriot  thunders  rung, 
And  "  death  or  independence"  fir'd  each  tongue. 

But  hark,  the  trump  through  every  region  blown, 
Sounds  from  cold  Lawrence  to  the  burning  zone ;  210 

Thy  cause,  humanity  !  that  swells  its  breath, 
Wakes  in  each  bosom  cool  contempt  of  death. 
By  rumbling  drums  from  distant  regions  call'd, 
Men,  scorning  pirate  rage,  start  unappall'd : 
With  eye-balls  flaming,  cheeks  of  crimson  flush,  215 

From  rice-green  fields  and  fir-clad  mountains  rush 
High-mettled  youths — unus'd  to  sights  of  slain> 
Of  hostile  navies,  or  the  stormy  main, 
Enrag'd,  they  leave  unfinish'd  furrows  far, 
To  dare  the  deep,  and  toil  in  fields  of  war.  220 

From  dreams  of  peace  the  sleeping  vet'rans  wake, 
Their  rattling  arms,  with  grasp  indignant,  shake  ; 
Those  arms,  their  pride,  their  country's  gift,*  what  day 
To  independence  they  had  op'd  the  way ; 
Frowning  wide  ruin,  terrible  they  rise,  225 

Like  battling  thunders  bursting  from  the  skies. 
From  Erie's  inland  vales,  unnam'd  in  song, 
In  native  fierceness  pour  the  hunter  throng : 
Beneath  their  rapid  march  realms  roll  behind; 
Their  uncomb'd  locks  loose  floating  on  the  wind :  230 

Coarse  their  worn  garbs — they  place  their  only  pride 
In  the  dread  rifle,  oft  in  battle  tried : 
With  aim  unbalk'd,  whose  leaden  vengeance  sings, 
Sure  as  the  dart  the  king  of  terror  flings. 

*  At  the  conclusion  of  the  war,  Congress  gave  to  the  toldiars  of  th«  continental  mmy 
ilie  arm*  with  which  they  had  defended  tlieir  country. 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  57 

So  erst,  brave  Morgan,  thy  bold  hunters  sped —  235 

Such  light-arm'd  youths  the  gallant  Fayette  led — 

Ere  Steuben  brought  the  Prussian  lore  from  far, 

Or  Knox  created  all  the  stores  of  war. 

Through  tented  fields  impetuous  ardour  spreads — 

Rous'd  by  the  trump  the  coursers  rear  their  heads,  240 

Snuff  in  the  tainted  gale  the  nitrous  grain, 

Responsive  neigh,  and  prance  the  wide  champaign. 

Now  glowing  feelings  kindle  nobler  rage, 
And  rouse  in  freedom's  cause  the  fearless  age, 
With  martial  heat  each  colder  bosom  warm,  245 

String  the  tough  nerve  and  brace  the  brawny  arm. 
Now  preparation  forms  the  gleaming  blade, 
In  moulds  capacious  pond'rous  deaths  are  made. 
In  crowded  docks  th'  incessant  labour  glows — 
The  tool  resounds — the  wond'rous  structure  grows—          250 
Let  not  th'  uplifted  arm  its  toil  relax ! 
Give  me  the  music  echoing  to  the  axe  ; 
Chim'd  with  the  caulker's  stroke  that  stops  each  chink, 
While  beat  in  time  the  hammer'd  anvils  clink ; 
As  oft  the  boatswain's  call  with  piping  shrill,  255 

And  sailors'  simple  song  the  pauses  fill. 
Give  me  to  see  the  pitchy  blazes  curl, 
The  ropes  dark  rise  and  canvass  white  unfurl. 
Prop'd  on  the  stocks  stupendous  war-ships  stand, 
Raise  their  huge  bulks  and  darken  all  the  strand ;  260 

Till  tow'ring  fleets,  from  diff'rent  harbours  join'd, 
Float  on  the  pinions  of  the  fav'ring  wind ; 
Tall  groves  of  masts,  like  mountain  forests,  rise^ 
Wav'd  high  in  air  the  starry  streamer  flies : 
To  prosp'rous  gales  the  canvass  wide  unfurl'd,  26£ 

Bears  the  rous'd  vengeance  round  the  wat'ry  world. 
See  ocean  whitens  with  innum'rous  sails — 
Be  still,  ye  storms  !  breathe  soft,  ye  friendly  gales  1 
See  where  Columbia's  mighty  squadron  runs 
To  climes  ilium 'd  by  other  stars  and  suns ;  270 

Gains  the  deep  strait ;  ascends  the  midland  wave, 
Of  ancient  fleets  th'  unfathomable  grave  J 
When  freedom's  ardent  chiefs,  with  eager  eye, 
Dim  through  the  mist  the  corsair  force  descry ; 
Whose  sails  slow  rising  skirt  the  distant  heav'n,  2^5 

Like  shad'wy  vapours  of  ascending  ev'n— 
I 


58       ON  THE  FUTURE  GLORY  OF  THE 

Here  shine  Columbia's  constellated  stars, 

There  growing  moons,  that  guide  Barbaric  wars. 

Th'  obstructions  clear'd — obliquely  on  the  gales — 

With  open  ports — half  furl'd  the  flapping  sails-*-  280 

Near  and  more  near,  athwart  the  bill'wy  tide, 

In  terrors  arm'd,  the  floating  bulwarks  glide  ; 

Tier  pil'd  o'er  tier  the  sleeping  thunder  lies, 

Anon  to  rend  the  shudd'ring  main  and  skies. 

Ere  yet  they  shut  the  narrow  space  between,  285 

Begins  the  prelude  of  a  bloodier  scene — 
With  sudden  touch  deep-throated  engines  roar, 
Pierce  heav'n's  blue  vault  and  dash  the  waves  to  shore ; 
Then  madd'ning  billows  mock  the  fearful  sound, 
While  o'er  their  surface  globes  of  iron  bound  ;  290 

Unknown  concussions  rolling  o'er  their  heads, 
Far  fly  the  monsters  round  their  coral  beds. 

The  battle  closes — fiercer  fights  begin — 
And  hollow  hulls  reverberate  the  din : 

The  green  waves  blacken  as  the  tempest  lours,  295 

Chain-bolts  and  langrage  rain  in  dreadful  show'rs  ; 
Ship  dash'd  on  ship  upheaves  the  flashing  flood, 
The  black  sides  wrapt  in  flame,  the  decks  in  blood : 
From  both  the  lines  now  smoke,  now  flames  aspire, 
Now  clouds  they  roll,  now  gleam  a  ridge  of  fire  :  300 

On  hostile  pro\vs  Columbia's  heroes  stand, 
Conqu'ring  'mid  death,  or  dying  sword  in  hand ; 
Promiscuous  cries,  with  shouts  confus'dly  drown'd 
In  the  wild  uproar,  swell  the  dol'rous  sound : 
And  naught  distinct  is  heard,  and  naught  is  seen  305 

Where  wreaths  of  vapour  hov'ring  intervene  ; 
Save  when  black  grains  expand  imprison'd  air, 
The  thunder  wake  and  shoot  a  livid  glare  ; 
Then  ghastly  forms  are  seen  by  transient  gleams, 
The  dead  and  wounded  drench'd  in  purple  streams.  310 

Now  helmless  ships  in  devious  routes  are  driv'n, 
The  cordage  torn,  the  masts  to  atoms  riv'n : 
Now  where  they  glow  with  curling  waves  of  fire, 
In  one  explosion  total  crews  expire. 

Here  barks  relinquis'd,  burnt  to  ocean's  brink,  315 

Half  vcil'd  in  crimson  clouds,  begin  to  sink. 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  & 

With  men  submerg'd,  there  frailer  fragments  float ; 

Here  yawning  gulfs  absord  th'  o'erloaded  boat : 

There  red-hot  balls,  that  graze  the  waters,  hiss, 

And  plunge  the  gallies  down  the  dread  abyss.  320 

Here  shatter'd  limbs,  there  garments  dipt  in  blood, 

With  mingling  crimson  stain  the  foughten  flood ; 

While  Afric's  pirates,  shrinking  from  the  day, 

By  terror  urg'd,  drag  wounded  hulks  away. 

As  when  two  adverse  storms,  impetuous  driv'n  325 

From  east  and  west,  sail  up  the  azure  heav'n, 
In  flaming  fields  of  day  together  run, 
Explode  their  fires  and  blot  with  night  the  sun — 
The  eastern  cloud,  its  flames  expir'd  at  last, 
Flies  from  the  light'ning  of  the  western  blast :  330 

So  fled  the  corsair  line  the  blighting  stroke 
Of  freedom's  thunder — so  their  battle  broke — 
As  if  by  heav'n's  own  arm  subdu'd  at  length, 
Their  courage  chill'd,  and  wither'd  all  their  strength, 

Oh,  then  let  vict'ry  stimulate  the  chace,  335 

To  free  from  shameful  chains  the  human  race  ; 
To  drive  these  pirates  from  th'  insulted  waves, 
To  ope  their  dungeons  to  despairing  slaves ; 
To  snatch  from  impious  hands,  and  break  the  rod 
Which  erst  defac'd  the  likeness  of  a  God :  340 

Then  seize  th'  occasion,  call  the  furious  gales, 
Crack  bending  oars,  stretch  wide  inflated  sails ; 
On  rapid  wings  of  wind  the  tempest  bear, 
Make  death's  deep  tubes  with  lurid  lightnings  glare ; 
Like  evanescent  mists  dispel  their  hosts,  34$ 

And  with  destruction's  besom  sweep  their  coasts ! 

Woe  to  proud  Algiers ;  to  your  princes  woe  ! 
Your  pride  is  perish'd  with  your  youths  laid  low — 
Woe  to  ye  people  !  woe,  disti-ess,  and  fears  ! 
Your  hour  is  come  to  drink  the  cup  of  tears :  350 

A  ghastly  paleness  gathers  on  your  cheeks, 
While  mem'ry  haunts  your  ears  with  captive  shrieks ; 
Then  stifled  conscience  wak'ning  dares  to  cry, 
"  Think  on  your  crimson  crimes,  despair  and  die  I" — , 
Then  ruin  comes,  with  fire,  and  sword,  and  blood,  35$ 

And  men  shall  ask,  "  where  once  your  cities  stood  ?" 


'Tis  done — behold  th'  uncheery  prospects  rise, 
Unwonted  glooms  the  silent  coasts  surprize ; 
The  heav'ns  with  sable  clouds  are  overcast, 
And  death-like  sounds  ride  on  the  hollow  blast :  360 

The  rank  grass  rustling  to  the  passing  gale  ; 
Ev'n  now  of  men  the  cheerful  voices  fail: 
No  busy  marts  appear,  no  crowded  ports, 
No  rural  dances,  and  no  splendid  courts ; 
In  halls,  so  late  with  feasts  and  music  crown'd,  365 

No  revels  sport,  nor  mirthful  cymbals  sound. 
Fastidious  pomp  !  how  are  thy  pageants  fled ! 
How  sleep  the  haughty  in  their  lowly  bed  ! 
Their  cultur'd  fields  to  desolation  turn'd, 
The  buildings  levell'd  and  th'  enclosures  burn'd.  370 

Where  the  fair  garden  bloom'd,  the  thorn  succeeds, 
'Mid  noxious  brambles  and  envenom'd  weeds. 
O'er  fallow  plains  no  vagrant  flocks  are  seen, 
To  print  with  tracks  or  crop  the  dewy  green. 
The  Plague,  where  thousands  felt  his  mortal  stings,  375 

In  vacant  air  his  shafts  promiscuous  flings  ; 
There  walks  in  darkness,  thirsting  still  for  gore, 
And  raves,  unsated,  round  the  desei-t  shore — 
The  sandy  waste,  th'  immeasurable  heath, 
Alone  are  prowl'd  by  animals  of  death.  380 

Here  tawny  lions  guard  their  gory  den  ; 
There  birds  of  prey  usurp  the  haunts  of  men ; 
Through  dreary  wilds  a  mournful  echo  calls, 
From  mould'ring  tow'rs  and  desolated  walls. 
Where  the  wan  light  through  broken  windows  gleams,       385 
The  fox  looks  out,  the  boding  raven  screams ; 
While  trembling  travellers  in  wild  amaze, 
On  wrecks  of  state  and  piles  of  ruin  gaze. 

The  direful  signs  which  mark  the  day  of  doom 
Shall  scarcely  scatter  such  portentous  gloom—  390 

When,  rock'd  the  ground,  convuls'd  each  roaring  flood, 
The  stars  shall  fall,  the  sun  be  turn'd  to  blood, 
The  globe  itself  dissolve  in  fluid  fire, 
Time  be  no  more,  and  man's  whole  race  expire. 

Thus  hath  thy  hand,  great  God  !  through  ev'ry  age,      395 
When  ripe  for  ruin,  pour'd  on  man  thy  rage  : 
So  didst  thou  erst  on  Babylon  let  fall 
The  plagues  thy  hand  inscrib'd  upon  the  wall : 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  61 

So  didst  thou  give  Sidonia's  sons  for  food, 

To  cow'ring  eagles,  drunk  with  human  blood ;  400 

Seal  in  thy  wrath  imperial  Salem 's  doom, 

And  sweep  her  millions  to  a  common  tomb. 

But  let  us  turn  from  objects  that  disgust, 
The  ghosts  of  empires  and  of  men  accurst : 
Turn  we  from  sights  that  pain  the  feeling  breast,  405 

To  where  new  nations  populate  the  west : 
For  there,  anon,  shall  new  auroras  rise, 
And,  streaming,  brighten  up  th'  Atlantic  skies ; 
Back  on  the  solar  path,  with  living  ray, 
Heav'n's  own  pure  splendours  pour  a  tide  of  day.  410 

And,  lo !   successful  from  heroic  toils, 
With  glory  cover'd  and  enrich'd  with  spoils ; 
With  garlands  waving  o'er  these  spoils  of  war, 
The  pomp  preceded  by  th'  imperial  star  ; 
'Mid  shouts  of  joy  from  liberated  slaves,  415 

In  triumph  ride  th'  avengers  of  the  waves. 
And  see,  they  gain  Columbia's  happy  strand, 
Where  anxious  crowds  in  expectation  stand. 
See  raptur'd  thousands  hail  the  kindred  race, 
And  court  the  heroes  to  their  fond  embrace  :  420 

In  fond  embraces  strain 'd  the  captive  clings, 
And  feels  and  looks  unutterable  things. 
See  there  the  widow  finds  her  long-lost  son, 
See  in  each  others'  arms  the  lovers  run  ; 
With  joy  tumultuous  their  swol'n  bosoms  glow,  425 

And  one  short  moment  pays  for  years  of  woe ! 
While  grateful  sports  and  festal  songs  proclaim, 
Their  joys  domestic,  and  their  distant  fame. 

Soon  shall  our  sails,  in  commerce  unconfin'd, 
Whiten  each  sea  and  swell  in  every  wind.  430 

Then  should  far  other  pirates  rove  the  main, 
To  plunder  urg'd  by  sateless  lust  of  gain  ; 
Rise,  fathers  of  our  councils  !  trade  protect, 
Make  warring  pow'rs  our  neutral  rights  respect ; 
To  vengeance  rous'd  by  many  a  corsair-crime,  436 

Resume  in  wrath  an  attitude  sublime ; 
And  make,  as  far  as  heav'n's  dread  thunder  rolls, 
Our  naval  thunder  shake  the  sea-girt  poles. 


ON  THE  FUTURE  GLORY  OF  THE 

Now  see  what  deeds  the  coming  days  await, 
Ere  heav'n  shall  seal  the  finish'd  book  of  fate.  440 

Full  soon  the  sons  of  anarchy  will  urge 
The  sister-states  to  dissolution's  verge  ; 
Rending  the  feeble  ties  with  frantic  hand, 
No  hope  of  safety  for  our  suffering  land  ; 
Till  Washington,  with  fed'ral  patriots  rise,  445 

And  draw  more  close  th'  indissoluble  ties; 
To  constituted  pow'rs  new  strength  afford, 
Nor  war,  nor  feuds,  nor  time  shall  break  the  triple  cord.* 

Far  in  the  west  shall  freedom's  flag  be  rear'd, 
There  freedom  make  her  holy  voice  be  heard ;  450 

No  anarchists  enjoy  their  pop'lar  dreams, 
Agrarian  laws  !  disorganizing  schemes  ! 
No  proud  aristocrats  imperious  lour, 
Or  cringing  minions  court  a  despot's  pow'r. 

Then  see  strong  bulwarks  towns  Atlantic  guard,  455 

O'er  wastes,  late  trackless,  wide  high-ways  prepar'd ; 
Canals  protract  th'  interminable  tide, 
While  loaded  barks  through  levell'd  mountains  glide  ; 
To  nameless  wilds  new  charms  by  culture  giv'n, 
And  a  new  city  rise  the  type  of  heav'n.  460 

On  broad  Potowmac's  bank  then  spring  to  birth, 
Thou  seat  of  empire  and  delight  of  earth  ! 
Of  WASHINGTON  assume  the  glorious  name, 
Immortal  filed ge  of  union  and  of  fame! 
Hail  site  sublime !  unconscious  of  thy  doom,  465 

Thou  future  city  burst  the  shapeless  gloom, 
From  long  oblivion  wake — unrivall'd  rise — 
And  spread  thy  destin'd  beauties  to  the  skies! 
Through  rows  of  goodly  trees  with  umbrage  fair, 
And  streams,  whose  freshness  cools  the  summer  air ;          470 
From  where  the  Tiber's  tide  thy  margin  laves, 
To  where  Pctowmac  rolls  his  sea-like  waves, 
I  see  thy  spacious  streets  their  walks  extend, 
The  domes  rise  beauteous  and  the  arches  bend — 
•  I  see  thy  portals  proud,  adorn 'd  with  art,  475 

Where  thronging  nations  enter  and  depart — . 


*  Alluding  to  the  legislative,  executive  and  judicial  powers.    A  three-fold  cord  is  not 
easily  broken. 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  6S 

Where  lifts  the  CAPITOL  its  golden  spires, 

I  see  Columbia's  delegated  sires 

Intent  on  high  debate — awful! — serene! — 

Nor  Greece  nor  Rome  beheld  an  equal  scene.  *  480 

Where  the  first  magistrate  of  freemen  dwells, 

In  simple  state  the  noble  pile  excels. 

Nor  less  those  courts  a  deep  attention  draw, 

Where  rest  enshrin'd,  as  oracles  of  law, 

The  judges  of  the  land — thence  right  shall  reign,  485 

Nor  they  the  sword  of  justice  bear  in  vain. 

There  stands  thy  fountain,  science  !  early  plann'd 

To  pour  a  flood  of  blessings  round  the  land — 

Since  him  who  tastes  thy  salutary  wave, 

No  force  or  fraud  can  make  in  mind  a  slave.  490 

To  our  new  empire,  lo !  what  crowds  repair, 
Walk  in  its  light  and  in  its  blessings  share  ; 
For  there  th'  oppress'd  a  place  of  refuge  find, 
The  last  asylum  for  distrest  mankind. 

Columbia,  hail !  exnlt  thou  happy  state !  495 

Large  in  thy  limits,  in  thy  produce  great ; 
The  harvests  thine  that  rise  by  countless  rills, 
And  thine  the  cattle  on  ten  thousand  hills. 

Rejoice,  Columbia  !  fair  in  charms  of  youth, 
Firm  in  thy  trust — th'  eternal  rock  of  truth —  500 

Shrink  not  from  trials,  nor  to  suff'rings  yield, 
The  Lord,  thy  God,  will  guard  thee  with  his  shield — 
Of  thy  high  destinies  the  call  attend, 
That  bids  thy  stuay  with  time  and  nature  end ; 
Thy  splendours  grow  with  each  increasing  year,  505 

And  distant  nations  guide  in  freedom's  great  career. 

Forerunners  of  this  period  wars  shall  rise, 
And  scenes  of  horror  new  beneath  the  skies — 
A  monster-pow'r  usurp  the  mighty  void 

Of  thrones  subverted  and  of  states  destroy 'd :  510 

The  fruitful  parent  of  unnumber'd  woes, 
Nor  less  destructive  to  his  friends  than  foes ; 
With  grasp  fraternal  when  he  stops  the  breath, 
Gloomy  as  night  and  terrible  as  death  ! 

No  beast  more  fell,  with  rage  and  vengeance  swell'd,         515 
Th'  Apocalypse  in  Patmos'  isle  beheld. 


ON  THE  FUTURE  GLORY  OF  THE 

With  half  a  thousand  feet  he  treads  down  kings, 

And  strives  to  soar  with  five  times  fifty  wings  ; 

Five  heads  the  monster  rears  with  serpent  eyes, 

And  opes  his  mouths  with  boasts  and  blasphemies  :  520 

Where'er  he  moves  he  blasts  the  conquer'd  land, 

And  deals  destruction  with  unsparing  hand ; 

Surrounding  monarchs  paralys'd  with  awe, 

Crouch  the  weak  knee,  receive  th'  unrighteous  law  : 

While  Rome's  high  pontiff  from  his  sev'n  hills  huii'dj         525 

In  consternation  leaves  the  papal  world. 

To  save  Columbia  from  that  monster-pow  'r, 
Behold  how  heav'n  prepares  a  shelt'ring  tow'r  ! 
As  some  hoar  mound  of  adamantine  rock, 
Of  mingling  elements  resists  the  shock  ;  530 

What  time  the  storm  of  angry  heav'n  is  hurl'd, 
One  sweeping  deluge  on  the  wasted  world : 
So  flx'd  firm  Adams  stands — a  flint  his  face — 
'Mid  floods  of  wrath  a  shelter  for  our  race. 

Then  see,  like  reptiles  in  their  native  dung,  535 

New  broods  of  monsters  from  the  monster  sprung; 
Voracious  revel  in  their  sire's  decay, 
Suck  his  heart's  blood,  and  perish*  with  their  prey  I 

From  disappointed  hope,  the  baffled  plan, 
That  promis'd  bliss  with  liberty  to  pian ;  540" 

From  tyrant  force  too  strong  to  be  withstood, 
Corruption,  terror,  ruin,  fire,  and  blood ; 
A  Pow'r  shall  rise  to  bid  the  Discord  cease, 
And  join  all  nations  in  the  leagues  of  Peace. 

To  cure  the  pangs  that  nerve-torne  nations  feel,  545 

A  bleeding  world  with  better  balm  to  heal ; 
Come,  emanation  from  the  King  of  Kings, 
Religion  !  come,  with  healing  on  thy  wings  ! 
O'er  wilds  of  western  waves  ascend  our  strand, 
Send  forth  thy  saving  virtues  round  our  land !  550 

Remit  thy  influence  mild  through  every  clime! 
Wide  as  existence,  durable  as  time, 


*  This  prediction  was  written  and  seen  by  a  number  of  the  author's  fiieails  long  before  the 
first  deportation  and  changes  of  the  French  Directory. 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  65 

Make  earth's  far  corners  feel  thy  sacred  flamcj 
And  man  adore  th'  UNUTTERABLE  NAME  ! 

Then  happier  days,  by  hallow'd  bards  foretold,  555 

Shall  far  surpass  the  fabled  age  of  gold ; 
The  human  mind  its  noblest  pow'rs  display, 
And  knowledge,  rising  to  meridian  day, 
Shine  like  the  lib'ral  sun  ;  th'  illumin'd  youths 
By  fair  discussion  find  immortal  truths.  560 

Why  turns  th'  horizon  red  ?  the  dawn  is  neat: 
Infants  of  light,  ye  harbingers  appear ; 
With  ten-fold  brightness  gild  the  happier  age, 
And  light  the  actors  o'er  a  broader  stage  ! 
This  drama  closing— ere  th'  approaching  end,  565 

See  heav'n's  perennial  year  to  earth  descend. 
Then  wake,  Columbians !  fav'rites  of  the  skies, 
Awake  to  glory,  and  to  rapture  rise  t 
Behold  the  dawn  of  your  ascending  fame 
Illume  the  nations  with  a  purer  flame ;  570 

Progressive  splendours  spread  o'er  ev'ry  clime ! 
Then  wrapt  in  visions  of  unfolding  time, 
Pierce  midnight  clouds  that  hide  his  dark  abyss, 
And  see,  in  embryo,  scenes  of  future  bliss ! 
See  days,  and  months,  and  years,  there  roll  in  night,        575 
While  age  succeeding  age  ascends  to  light ; 
Till  your  blest  offspring,  countless  as  the  stars, 
In  open  ocean  quench  the  torch  of  wars : 
With  God-like  aim,  in  one  firm  union  bind 
The  common  good  and  int'rest  of  mankind ;  580 

Unbar  the  gates  of  commerce  for  their  race, 
And  build  the  gen'ral  peace  on  freedom's  broadest  base. 


REMARKS 


ON  THE  WAR  BETWEEN  THE 


UNITED    STATES 


AND 


TRIPOLI. 


REMARKS,  &c. 


IT  is  not  unknown  to  many  of  the  citizens  of  the  United  States, 
that  the  inadmissable  demands  and  unprovoked  aggressions  of  the 
Bashaw  of  Tripoli  have  forced  us  into  a  war.  From  the  menaces 
of  the  Emperor  of  Morocco,  a  few  months  ago,  notwithstanding 
any  temporary  accommodation  which  has  since  taken  place,  it  is 
probable  that  he  will,  at  no  very  distant  day,  be  added  to  the  num 
ber  of  our  enemies.  Nor  would  it  be  surprising  that  the  other  two 
powers  of  Barbary  should  ultimately  make  a  common  cause  against 
us.  Should  we  be  provoked  by  their  piracies,  what  will  remain 
for  us  but  to  prosecute,  on  a  larger  scale,  the  plan  of  defence 
which  has  at  length  been  adopted? 

The  policy  of  protecting  our  commerce  by  a  national  marine 
has  ever  been  considered  by  me  as  a  necessary  part  of  the  system 
on  which  our  public  prosperity  essentially  depends.  If  any  of  my 
writings,  in  an  official  or  private  capacity,  in  poetry  or  prose, 
have  tended  to  promote  its  adoption,  I  shall  receive  a  complete 
compensation  for  all  the  tedious  correspondences,  dangerous 
voyages,  and  troublesome  negociations,  in  which  I  was  for  many 
years  engaged,  in  consequence  of  the  real  and  apprehended  hos 
tilities  and  depredations  of  some  of  the  states  of  Barbary.  While 
I  was  charged  with  full  powers  to  negociate  with  all  of  them,  I 
never  ceased  to  give  it  as  my  opinion  to  my  government,  that  the 
employment  of  a  sufficient  marine  force  would  be  the  cheapest 
and  most  effectual  mode  of  procuring  and  maintaining  peace,  For 
a  long  time  the  want  of  resources,  and  afterwards  the  destination 
of  our  few  armed  vessels  to  cover  our  navigation  from  other  spo 
liations,  prevented  our  executive  from  affording  the  much  needed 
protection  to  our  Mediterranean  trade. 

To  avoid  introducing  any  thing  irrelevant,  I  shall  omit  to  men 
tion  many  particulars  concerning  my  ministry,  during  the  pro 
tracted  and  distressing  period  in  which  a  considerable  number  of 
our  countrymen  were  detained  in  slavery  at  Algiers.  Such  of  them 
as  are  still  living  will,  I  am  confident,  bear  testimony  to  the 
zeal  with  which  I  attempted  to  promote  the  public  cause,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  to  put  a  period  to  their  individual  suffering.  I  as 
sume  BO  claim  to  merit  for  thus  doing  what  was  not  immediately 


ro         REMARKS  ON  THE  WAR  WITH  TRIPOLI. 

•within  the  limits  of  my  duty  as  a  minister  at  a  particular  court; 
but  I  may,  perhaps,  be  permitted  to  indulge  the  gratification  which 
is  derived  from  a  consciousness  of  having  cheerfully,  faithfully, 
and  disinterestedly  executed  that  trust.  If  the  inconveniences 
of  many  voyages,  and  especially  the  perils  of  a  winter  passage 
across  the  western  ocean,  and  of  being  driven  repeatedly  from 
the  American  coast,  after  having  been  long  at  sea,  in  a  leaky 
ship,  Avith  a  debilitated  crew,  contributed  to  hasten  the  release 
of  our  brave  countrymen,  not  from  ideal  and  figurative,  but  real 
and  galling  chains,  it  was  enough.  At  last  the  day  of  their  re 
demption  arrived.  Treaties  of  amity  were  finally  concluded  with 
all  the  Barbary  states,  by  agents  under  my  direction.  New  out 
rages  were,  however,  again  meditated  by  one  of  them,  as  thus 
announced  in  my  communications*  to  the  Secretary  of  State. 
"  This  letter  is  particularly  intended  to  transmit  to  government  the 
circular  letter  received  this  day  from  our  Consul  at  Tripoli,  an-? 
nouncirg  the  imminent  danger  of  an  immediate  rupture  with  that 
regency.  While  I  refer  this  communication  to  your  attention,  I 
cannot  but  anticipate,  from  the  various  representations  heretofore 
made  by  our  Consuls  in  Barbary,  that  adequate  measures  will 
already  have  been  taken  to  avert  the  blow."  On  another  occasionf 
these  words  were  used:  "I  think  I  cannot  display  too  much 
eagerness  in  communicating  to  you,  by  different  conveyances,  the 
news  this  moment  received  by  me  from  Algiers.  I  hasten  then 
to  transmit  copies  of  Consul  O'Brien's  letters  to  the  6th  instant, 
•which  came  to  me  through  the  department  of  the  first  minister  of 
State  of  his  Catholic  Majesty.  From  the  last  of  these  letters  you 
will  learn  that  the  Bey  of  Tripoli,  having  refused  the  mediation 
of  Algiers,  the  presents  sent  from  thence,  and  the  bills  of  Consul 
Cathcart,  was  determined  upon  war  against  the  United  States, 
and  was  sending  his  cruizers  to  sea  accordingly.  It  is  devoutly  to 
be  wished  that  he  may  soon  have^ reason  to  repent  this  wicked  and 
i*ash  proceeding  at  his  leisure.  As  it  is  a  considerable  time  since 
Consul  Cathcart  (whom  I  consider  a  very  faithful  and  vigilant 
public  officer)  took  the  wise  precaution  of  giving  extensive  advice 
of  the  great  probability  of  this  event,  I  cannot  but  hope  that  our 
unarmed  merchant  vessels  will  not  be  exposed  to  the  hazard  of 
Falling  into  the  possession  of  these  pirates,  but  that' they  will  rather 
be  retained  in  port  (however  inconvenient  or  expensive  it  may  be) 
until  they  can  be  protected  by  armed  vessels  of  the  United  States 
adequate  to  the  purpose. 

*  See  the  letter  dated  Madrid,  February  C,  1S01. 

•j-  Letter  to  the  Secretary  of  Sutc,  dated  Mad: id,  April  14,- 1801. 


REMARKS  ON  THE  WAR  WITH  TRIPOLI.         7l 

"On  the  policy  of  repelling  force  by  force,  and  of  blocking  the 
ports  of  this  aggressor,  I  can  add  little  to  the  motives  which  I 
have  already  had  the  honour  to  ofler.  I  may,  however,  just  be 
allowed  to  say,  that  the  circum stances  seem  more  than  at  any 
former  time  to  reduce  us  to  the  alternative  of  having  a  few  frigates 
and  light  armed  vessels  in  the  Mediterranean,  or  of  relinquishing 
bur  trade  in  it.  To  be  at  war  with  one  of  the  Barbary  powers 
subjects  our  commerce  to  nearly  the  same  risk  as  to  be  at  war 
with  all  of  them.  To  chastise  that  haughty,  but  contemptible 
power  which  now  dares  first  to  insult  us  by  its  aggression,  would 
serve  not  only  as  a  salutary  example  to  the  other  piratical  states, 
but  it  would  produce  an  almost  incalculable  effect  in  elevating  our 
national  character  in  the  estimation  of  all  Europe.  National  cha 
racter  and  public  opinion  are  far  from  being  unimportant  objects, 
and  more  particularly  as  they  respect  a  rising  people.  The  many 
liness  of  this  conduct  of  nobly  defending  our  commerce  from  pi 
racy,  so  different  from  that  which  has  been  pursued  by  all  the 
civilized  nations  towards  these  barbarians,  would  raise  the  repu* 
tation  of  our  nascent  marine  in  our  own  judgment,  at  the  same 
time  that  it  would  strike  with  astonishment  those  who,  for  a  suc 
cession  of  ages,  have  submitted  to  the  most  humiliating  indignities 
wantonly  inflicted  on  them  by  a  handful  of  banditti;  and  you  may 
vest  assured  that  it  would  form,  as  it  were,  a  new  asra  in  the  naval 
history^of  mankind." 

Not  long  afterwards  I  continued  my  official  correspondence*  in 
conveying  to  the  Secretary  of  State  the  subsequent  information: 
"  I  have  this  day  received  advice  from  the  Consul  of  the  United 
States  at  Genoa,  to  the  following  effect :  '  I  have  now  further  tor 
inform,  that  by  advice  given  to  Commodore  Tornquist,  from  the 
Swedish  Consul,  at  Tunis,  of  the  24th  March,  communicated  to 
Consul  Appleton,  at  Leghorn,  the  Bashaw  of  Trijioli  did  actually 
declare  war  against  the  United  Stales  of  America  on  the  26th 
Of  February  ;  and  several  privateers  sailed  from  Tripoli  early  in 
Mai-ch,  to  cruize  against  the  Americans.' 

"  I  trust  a  squadron  will  ere  this  be  in  the  Streights,  to  show  these 
barbarians  what  the  Americans  are,  and  can  do.  Interim,  I  think 
it  incumbent  on  me  to  embargo  all  Americans  in  this  port,  to  pre 
vent  our  fellow  citizens  from  falling  into  captivity,  unless  the! 
Vessels  are  strongly  armed,  and  in  every  way  able  to  repel  the  at* 
tacks  of  these  ruffians."  I  proceed  to  say — «  I  have  also  this  day- 
received  a  letter  from  Consul  Willis,  at  Barcelona,  under  date  of 
the  2d  instant,  informing  me  that  there  are  twenty-two  Ameri- 

*  IB  a  letter  dated  Madiid,  May  S,  1S01. 


T2          REMARKS  ON  THE  WAR  WITH  TRIPOLI. 

can  vessels  detained  in  that  port,  on  account  of  the  danger  appre 
hended  from  the  corsairs  of  Tripoli.  He  had  before  written  to 
me  that  he  should  recommend  to  the  masters  of  American  vessels 
to  remain  in  port  until  they  could  be  protected  by  a  convoy.  The 
government  will  perceive  the  choice  of  evils  to  which  our  citizens 
concerned  in  trade  to  the  Mediterranean  are  reduced,  and  will 
doubtless  occupy  its  attention  on  the  means  of  averting  them." 

The  agreeable  intelligence  of  the  arrival  of  a  few  of  our  na 
tional  frigates,  with  one  armed  schooner,  to  protect  the  trade  in 
the  Mediterranean,  and  the  reflections  occasioned  by  it,  were  thus 
expressed* — "  Since  the  date  of  my  last  dispatch  to  you,  I  have 
received  a  letter  from  Commodore  Dale,  dated  in  Gibraltar  Bay, 
the  2d  instant,  giving  an  account  of  the  arrival  of  the  squadron 
under  his  command ;  of  his  having  found  there  the  High  Admiral 
of  Tripoli,  with  one  ship  and  one  brig;  and  of  his  own  design  to 
sail  for  Algiers  the  next  day,  leaving  one  of  his  frigates  to  watch 
the  motions  of  those  vessels  of  Tripoli.  Nothing  could  have 
been  more  opportune  for  the  protection  of  our  commerce,  than 
the  arrival  of  this  force,  to  prevent  them  from  proceeding  into  the 
•western  ocean,  where,  in  a  few  days  cruize  between  Cadiz  and 
Lisbon,  they  might,  in  all  human  probability,  have  produced  the 
most  disastrous  consequences,  by  capturing  the  property  of  our 
merchants  to  an  amazing  amount,  and  making  slaves  of  a  great 
number  of  our  citizens. 

"  By  the  same  courier  who  brought  the  before  mentioned 
letter  from  Commodore  Dale,  I  received  a  packet  from  Consul 
O'Brien,  expedited  from  Algiers  the  24th  of  last  month,  contain 
ing  also  a  letter  for  yourself,  which  will  be  transmitted  herewith. 
Notwithstanding  he  mentions  the  report  that  some  of  our  mer 
chant  vessels  had  been  taken  by  the  corsairs  of  Tripoli,  yet,  from 
the  circumstance  of  his  having  received  no  recent  communica 
tions  from  the  other  Barbary  states,  from  that  of  there  having 
been  no  information  of  such  a  disaster  sent  to  me  by  any  of  our 
Consuls  in  Italy  or  Spain,  and,  above  all,  from  the  very  early 
knowledge  of  the  danger  which  had  been  spread  in  every  port  of 
the  Mediterranean,  so  that  our  seafaring  citizens  could  not  have 
been  ignorant  of  it,  I  cannot  but  hope  the  report  is  unfounded. 
Fortunate,  indeed,  will  it  be  for  us,  if  our  Mediterranean  trade 
should  escape  the  threatened  peril,  with  only  the  damage  it  must 
suffer  from  having  been  interrupted  for  a  short  period ;  as  I  flatter 
myself  that  whatever  might  have  been  the  idea  at  the  time  of 
the  sailing  of  Commodore  Dale's  squadron  from  America,  that 

*  In  the  Icucr  te  the  Secretary  of  Statr,  dated  Madild,  July  27,  1801. 


REMARKS  ON  THE  WAR  WITH  TRIPOLI.          73 

trade  will  never  again  be  left  in  the  same  exposed  situation. 
Knowing,  as  I  do,  that  the  great  and  increasing  value  of  »V,  in 
all  points  of  estimation,  is  fully  appreciated  by  government,  I 
shall  only  remark  that  the  Dutch,  in  common  with  most  of  the 
belligerent  powers,  having  lost  their  carrying  trade,  the  Danes 
and  Swedes  having  had  their  activity  paralysed  by  the  stroke  lately 
given  by  England  to  their  navigation,  and  the  Hanseatic  towns  and 
Prussians  having  no  vessels  in  the  Mediterranean,  on  account  of 
their  being  at  war  with  the  Barbary  States,  no  occasion  could  be 
more  favourable  than  the  present  for  the  encouragement  of  the 
American  spirit  of  industry  and  enterprize  in  that  quarter." 

The  unexpected  appearance  of  a  squadron  from  the  new  world 
in  the  Mediterranean,  and  the  consequent  decided  measures  of 
declaring  the  port  of  Tripoli  blockaded,  and,  as  far  as  possible, 
carrying  that  declaration  into  effect,  astonished  the  regencies  of 
Barbary  at  our  promptitude  and  boldness.  The  intelligence  of 
these  proceedings  was  not  only  received  with  appi*obation  and  ap 
plause  by  the  nations  of  Europe,  but  operated  powerfully  in 
placing  the  character  of  the  United  States  in  a  more  advantageous 
point  of  view  than  it  had  ever  before  been  contemplated.  The 
progress  of  our  little  marine  in  protecting  our  commerce,  was  thus 
communicated*  to  the  American  Secretary  of  State. 

"  From  Tunis  and  Leghorn  I  leai-n  Commodore  Dale  had  pub 
lished  a  notification,  purporting  '  that  the  Bashaw  of  Tripoli 
having  declared  war  against  the  United  States,  the  port  of  Tripoli 
was  blockaded  by  an  armed  force  of  the  said  States,  and  that  all 
vessels  attempting  to  enter  the  same  would  be  treated  according 
to  the  laws  of  nations.'  This  is  the  first  instance  (within  my  re 
collection,  during  my  residence  in  Europe)  of  any  of  the  ports  of 
the  Barbary  powers  being  put  in  a  state  of  blockade,  notwith 
standing  their  multiplied  piratical  aggressions  against  the  Chris 
tian  nations.  I  cannot  but  flatter  myself  it  will  produce  the  hap 
piest  consequences,  by  being  a  commencement  of  the  verification 
of  the  prediction  which  I  made  in  print  more  than  fifteen  years 
ago,  when  not  a  single  armed  vessel,  public  or  private,  was  owned 
in  the  United  States,  that  the  time  would  come  when  the  United 
States  would  be  the  authors  of  the  system  for  exterminating  the 
piracies,  for  so  long  a  time  committed  with  impunity  by  the  Bar 
bary  powers."  In  the  postscript  to  the  same  communication, 
it  was  added — "  I  have  received  letters  from  the  Captains  of  the 
frigates  of  the  United  States  the  Philadelphia  and  Essex,  by  the 
last  post  from  Malaga ;  and  I  find  by  other  accounts,  that  they 

*  In  a  letter  dated  Madrid,  September  10,  1891. 


74         REMARKS  ON  THE  WAR  WITH  TRIPOLI. 

sailed  from  thence  on  the  12th  instant,  to  join  Commodore  Dale 
before  Tripoli.  The  declaration  of  the  blockade  of  that  port  by 
an  American  naval  force  has  made  no  inconsiderable  sensation 
in  Europe. 

"  Captain  Baron,  of  the  Philadelphia,  will  doubtless  have  in 
formed  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  that,  in  consequence  of  his 
vigilance  in  watching  the  two  armed  vessels  of  Tripoli  at  Gib 
raltar,  the  High  Admiral  has  been  obliged  to  dismantle  and  aban 
don  those  vessels. 

"  The  Consul  of  the  United  States  at  Gibraltar  writes  to  me 
that  the  timely  arrival  of  the  squadron  under  the  orders  of  Com 
modore  Dale,  has  prevented  at  least  twenty-five  merchant  ships, 
belonging  to  citizens  of  the  United  States,  with  rich  cargoes, 
from  falling  into  the  possession  of  those  pirates.  I  forward  to  you 
herewith,  a  letter  from  Capt.  O'Brien  to  me,  dated  at  Algiers  the 
5th  of  this  month,  in  which  he  gives  a  report  of  an  action  between 
the  American  schooner  Enterprize  and  a  corsair  of  Tripoli." 
The  gallant  conduct  of  Capt.  Sterrit  and  his  ship's  company  in 
that  engagement  is  too  well  known,  and  has  been  too  highly  ho 
noured  by  government  to  require  repetition  or  commendation  on 
this  occasion. 

While  these  transactions  were  performing,  while  it  was  doubtful 
whether  the  King  of  Sweden  would  ratify  the  treaty  which  had 
been  negociated  bp  his  agent  with  the  Bashaw  of  Tripoli,  and 
while  his  Majesty's  marine  could  lend  us  no  assistance  (at  that 
moment)  by  its  co-operation,  I  offered  the  Chevalier  Adlerberg, 
then  Swedish  Charge  cles  Affaires  at  Madrid,  to  engage  the  Ame 
rican  squadron  in  the  Mediterranean  to  furnish  all  possible  pro 
tection  to  the  commerce  of  that  nation,  in  case  of  the  renewal  of 
hostilities.  These  overtures  were  gratefully  accepted,  and  after 
wards  happily  reciprocated,  and  became  the  basis  of  making  joint 
cause,  and  affording  mutual  convoy,  as  is  actually  the  case. 

It  will  not  be  improper,  in  this  place,  to  say,  the  ancient  mari 
time  nations  of  Europe  have  looked  with  admiration  on  our  hardy 
and  successful  commencement  of  a  systematic  defence  of  our  na 
vigation  against  piratical  attacks.  And  the  friends  of  humanity, 
of  all  denominations,  will  undoubtedly  be  gratified  by  being  in 
formed,  that  the  three  great  naval  powers  most  interested  in  the 
trade  of  the  Mediterranean,  viz.  England,  France,  and  Spain, 
have  given  frequent  and  unequivocal  proofs  of  their  friendly  dis 
positions  towards  the  United  States,  in  the  course  of  their  attempts 
to  carry  into  execution  the  before-mentioned  plan  of  protecting 
their  navigation  by  an  armed  force. 

Although  it  will  be  perceived  that  the  dissertation  in  prose, 


REMARKS  ON  THE  WAR  WITH  TRIPOLI.         7s 

({  on  the  necessity  of  maintaining  a  navy  in  the  United  States," 
which  follows,  was  composed  previous  to  the  general  peace  in  Eu 
rope,  and  before  any  of  our  national  vessels  had  been  sent  to  the 
Mediterranean ;  yet  it  is  deemed  expedient  to  have  it  printed  pre 
cisely  as  it  was  written.  For  it  is  sincerely  to  be  desired,  that 
no  change  of  circumstances  may  lightly  produce  a  change  in  the 
measures  which  have  been  so  properly  employed  to  vindicate  our 
rights  as  a  nation,  and  to  bring  those  pirates  to  reason. 

It  must  be  taken  into  the  calculation  of  every  man  who  is  ac 
quainted  with  human  nature,  that  variety  of  sentiments  will  al 
ways  be  found  in  free  nations.  But  in  whatever  manner  the  dif 
ferent  parties  in  the  United  States  may  differ  in  opinion  on  other 
questions,  it  is  to  be  hoped  and  expected,  that  perfect  harmony 
will  prevail  on  this  subject;  and  that  every  real  friend  to  our 
public  felicity  and  national  honour  will  concur  in  encouraging  the 
hearts,  and  strengthening  the  hands  of  those  who  may  be  instru 
ments  of  Providence  in  rescuing  us  from  the  infamy  to  which  so 
many  nations  have,  for  so  long  a  period,  submitted. 

Since  my  writing  the  preceding,  the  public  papers  have  given 
us  to  understand,  that  our  Executive  has  received  an  official  ac 
count  of  the  capture  of  the  brig  Franklin,  of  Philadelphia,  by  a 
corsair  of  Tripoli.  Americans  of  the  United  States,  your  fellow 
citizens  are  in  fetters!  Can  there  be  but  one  feeling?  Where 
are  the  gallant  remnants  of  the  race  who  fought  for  freedom? 
Where  the  glorious  heirs  of  their  patriotism  ?  Will  there  never 
be  a  truce  between  political  parties  ?  Or  must  it  for  ever  be  the 
fate  of  free  States,  that  the  soft  voice  of  union  should  be  drowned 
in  the  hoarse  clamour  of  discord?  No.  Let  every  fi'iend  of 
blessed  humanity  and  sacred  freedom  entertain  a  better  hope 
and  confidence. 

New-Haven^  Nov.  1,  1802^ 


THOUGHTS 

ON  THE  NECESSITY  OF  MAINTAINING 

A  NAVY 

IN  THE 

UNITED  STATES 

OF 

AMERICA. 

ADDRESSED  TO  THE  AMERICAN  PEOPLE. 


THOUGHTS,  &c. 

J.  HE  wealth  and  resources  of  a  nation  flow  from  an  uninter 
rupted  and  lucrative  commerce,  as  naturally  as  streams  from  an 
abundant  and  never-failing  fountain.  The  persevering  policy  by 
which  England  has  acquired  incalculable  riches,  and  risen  to  un 
rivalled  greatness  on  the  ocean,  by  means  of  a  protected  com 
merce,  is  so  well  known  as  scarcely  to  require  illustration  or  com 
ment.  It  is  true,  its  insular  situation,  and  some  accidental  circum 
stances  have  contributed,  in  a  certain  degree,  to  draw,  if  the  allu 
sion  may  be  allowed,  the  universal  trade  of  mankind  into  that 
overflowing  vortex.  The  false  policy  of  France  in  particular, 
during  the  greater  part  of  her  eventful  revolution,  in  organising 
a  system  of  vexation  and  plunder,  faithfully  carried  into  execu 
tion  by  her  privateers,  has  served  to  enrich  her  rival  in  a  manner 
before  unknown,  and  in  the  same  proportion  that  it  has  tended  to 
impoverish  the  neutral  nations,  by  diminishing  their  navigation, 
while  that  of  all  the  powers  engaged  in  the  war  against  England 
has  been  reduced  still  nearer  to  nothing.  But  it  is  not  necessary, 
on  this  occasion,  to  discuss  the  subject  of  the  rise,  progress,  de 
cline  or  present  state  of  the  commerce  of  the  once  great  mari 
time  powers  of  Europe.  Our  nation's  interest  has  a  more  imme 
diate  claim  upon  our  attention ;  and  it  is  intended  to  attempt  to 
demonstrate  that  this  interest  would  be  essentially  promoted  by 
a  NAVY. 

Notwithstanding  the  heavy  losses  which  we  have  sustained  from 
the  ravages  committed  on  our  property  at  sea  during  the  present 
European  war,  our  progress  in  improvements  of  almost  every 
sort,  since  the  adoption  of  our  general  government,  warrants  the 
conclusion,  that  many  years  will  not  elapse  before  the  United  States 
must  be  classed  among  the  powers  of  the  earth  which  are  the 
most  distinguished  for  national  importance  as  well  as  for  public 
felicity.  How  far  these  blessings  are  connected  with,  and  may  be 
hastened  by  our  highly  favourable  situation  for  trade,  remains  to 
be  ascertained.  We  may  begin  with  inquiring  whether  our  peo 
ple  do  not  appear  to  possess  as  much  activity  and  enterprize,  uni 
ted  with  as  strong  talents  for  exercising  this  profession  with  profit 
to  themselves  and  benefit  to  the  community,  as  the  inhabitants  of 
any  country  in  the  world  ?  And  next  we  may  ask,  what  other 
country  affords  greater  physical  advantages  for  commerce  than 
the  United  States  ?  What  other  quarter  of  the  globe  furnishes  an 
equal  abundance  of  waters,  in  its  innumerable  rivers  and  vast  lakes, 
for  inland  navigation  ?  In  what  nation,  not  superior  in  population 


60  THOUGHTS  ON  MAINTAINING 

to  ours,  has  interior  navigation  been  so  rapidly  and  so  extensively 
improved,  by  removing  obstructions  or  opening  canals  ?  At  the 
close  of  our  revolutionary  war,  it  was  imagined  by  the  best  in 
formed  men  in  America,  that  several  centuries  must  pass  away 
before  the  navigation  of  our  principal  rivers  could  be  opened 
through  the  mountains,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  traverse  the  im 
measurable  regions  of  the  midland  country.  Gen.  Washington, 
considering  the  magnitude  of  the  undertaking,  the  scarcity  of 
money,  and  the  want  of  hands,  was  almost  of  the  same  opinion. 
But  that  benefactor  of  the  new  world  knew  that  nothing  is  im 
possible  to  industry,  aided  by  the  strength  of  patriotism,  and  con 
ducted  by  the  perseverance  of  system.  He  thought  that  no  evil 
could  result  from  making  the  experiment  even  in  our  own  time, 
and  that  if  it  failed  of  success  in  one  age,  it  would  succeed  in  an 
other.  The  work  was  undertaken  and  accomplished  by  him, 
ere  we,  as  a  nation  (to  use  the  figure  of  a  renowned  orator), 
had  changed  the  grizzle  of  infancy  into  the  bone  of  manhood. 
The  MAN  who  recommended  the  scheme,  planned  the  work,  and 
undertook  the  superintendence  of  its  execution,  lived  long  enough 
to  see  the  navigation  of  the  Potowmac  completed.  This  success 
ful  example  gave  rise  to  many  other  undertakings  of  a  similar 
nature,  which  have  likewise  been  attended  with  success.  Such 
a  commencement  justly  astonishes  mankind.  Nor  less  do  the  im 
provements  for  facilitating  land-carriage,  by  the  construction  of 
excellent  roads  and  commodious  bridges,  exceed  every  thing  of 
the  kind  which  the  world  has  ever  witnessed  in  a  country  so  lately 
settled.  Such  communications  are  now  opened  by  land  and  by 
water  through  every  part  of  the  country,  that  the  market  is  in  a 
manner  carried  to  every  man's  door:  insomuch  that  commerce 
not  only  causes  our  sea-ports  and  cities  to  flourish,  but  it  diffuses, 
in  its  vivifying  course,  competence  and  comfort  to  the  remotest 
scenes  of  rural  life.  Without  a  market,  what  would  give  a  value 
to  the  surplus  of  the  farmer's  produce  beyond  what  was  wanted 
for  the  mere  subsistence  of  his  family?  Without  a  market,  what 
would  soon  be  seen  but  that  apathy,  negligence  and  sloth,  which 
degrade  the  listless  peasants  in  some  countries,  almost  to  the  level 
with  the  improvident  brutes?  A  ready  market  is  to  an  agricul 
tural  people  what  the  genial  sun  is  to  a  prolific  soil.  By  both 
the  cold  clods  are  warmed  into  vegetation,  industry  is  encouraged 
and  rewarded,  and  the  deadly  chills  of  poverty  are  driven  far 
from  the  cheerful  dwellings  of  men.  Behold  the  edifying  spec 
tacle  of  the  mutual  benefits  conferred  on  civil  societies,  in  the 
friendly  interchange  of  the  fruits  of  human  industry,  by  means  of 
a.  commercial  intercourse  of  one  nation  with  another  I  Where- 


A  NAVY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES.  81 

Soever  commerce  is  prosecuted,  the  farmer,  the  artificer  and  the 
sailor  are  mutually  employed  and  benefited  by  labouring  for  each 
other.  In  the  lately  uncultivated  deserts  of  America,  the  labour 
of  a  single  farmer  now  obtains  sufficient  produce  from  the  earth 
to  feed  several  artificers  in  the  workshops  of  Europe,  or  several 
seamen  on  board  the  vessels  occupied  in  bartering  their  different 
commodities.  For  it  is  in  this  Avay  that  the  farmer  receives,  in 
exchange  for  the  crude  fruits  of  his  labours,  all  the  conveniences 
and  even  many  of  the  delicacies  of  polished  life.  And  he  has  still 
an  advantage  over  the  mechanic  and  mariner,  by  adding  the 
profit  of  his  land  to  that  of  his  labour.  Nor  is  his  advantage  ter 
minated  with  the  moment,  for  "  his  incomes  exceed  his  out 
goes,"  and  he  hoards  up  for  the  decline  of  his  days,  and  for  the 
establishment  of  his  posterity  at  ease  after  his  death,  no  con 
temptible  portion  of  those  precious  metals  which  are  the  repre 
sentatives  of  property  in  all  the  civilized  countries  of  the  world. 

That  we  may  the  more  readily  comprehend  the  probable  extent 
of  our  future  carrying-trade,  it  will  not  be  indiscreet  to  take  into 
consideration  the  following  circumstances.  Since  much  less  grain 
is  now  raised,  and  much  more  bread  now  consumed  in  many 
countries  than  heretofore,  it  would  not  be  surprizing  that  the 
United  States  should  become,  at  no  very  remote  period,  in  a  great 
measure  the  granary  for  those  countries.  Encouragement  for  car 
rying  our  own  produce  to  market,  in  our  own  vessels,  is  then  an 
object  of  increasing  magnitude.  The  wise  provision  in  our  Con 
stitution  for  preventing  any  impost  being  laid  on  exports,  incon- 
testably  proves  what  encouragement  to  industry,  and  what  wealth 
to  individuals,  were  expected  to  result  from  the  removal  of  every 
possible  impediment  to  our  exportation.  And,  happily  for  us,  that 
expectation  has  not  been  disappointed ;  but  the  increase  has  far 
surpassed  every  calculation. 

Nor,  in  a  public  point  of  view,  is  commerce  of  less  consequence 
to  the  community.  No  truth  is  more  clear  than  that  commerce, 
by  means  of  duties  and  tonnages,  is  the  chief  source  of  revenue 
for  the  United  States.  It  furnishes  us  with  the  major  part  of  the 
money  necessary  for  supporting  our  government  and  for  defending 
our  country.  Protect  it,  and,  in  return,  it  will  continue  to  pro 
tect  you.  Does  there  exist  a  man  who  requires  to  be  informed, 
that  unless  the  safety  of  our  navigation  can  be  insured,  our  com 
merce  must  run  the  risk  of  being  ruined ;  and  that,  if  our  com 
merce  should  be  ruined,  one  of  the  principal  sources  of  national 
industry  and  public  revenue  would,  at  the  same  moment,  cease  to 
exist?  In  effect,  without  a  navy  we  must,  at  least  for  a  time, 
relinquish  the  exercise  of  our  right  of  carrying  our  own  produce 

M 


82  THOUGHTS  ON  MAINTAINING 

to  market ;  or  we  must  patiently  submit  to  every  species  of  in 
jury,  insult,  and  outrage. 

It  is  not  then  a  subject  of  wonder,  that  every  intelligent  go 
vernment  and  nation  should  bestow  much  attention  in  discover 
ing  and  making  use  of  the  best  measures  for  extending  and  pro 
tecting  their  navigation  and  commerce.  The  French  govern 
ment  has  lately  said,  "  the  French  people  wills  a  navy,  and  wills 
it  with  energy."  It  is  evident  the  American  people  wishes  for 
one,  since  the  voice  of  the  government,  which  must  be  in  conso 
nance  with  that  of  its  constituents,  has  pronounced  the  expediency 
of  such  an  establishment.  At  length  it  has  permitted  our  mer 
chants  to  arm  their  vessels  for  their  own  defence ;  and  after 
adopting  a  system  for  further  defending  our  commerce  by  a  na 
tional  marine,  and  providing  materials  and  places  for  ship-build 
ing,  the  work  has  been  commenced,  and  several  armed  vessels 
have  already  been  constructed*  As  riches  shall  increase,  and 
exigences  require,  the  means  of  augmenting  our  fleets  will  be 
more  obvious  and  more  within  our  reach.  The  extent  to  which 
the  establishment  ought  to  be  carried,  in  the  first  instance,  ap 
pears  to  be  the  only  question  with  Congress,  and  will  doubtless 
be  decided  upon  a  full  and  impartial  consideration  of  local  circum 
stances,  present  population,  increasing  numbers,  actual  revenues, 
growing  resources,  and  foreign  relations,  in  connection  with  the 
use  to  which  it  is  immediately  to  be  applied:  For,  on  the  one 
side,  we  should  not  be  so  selfish  as  to  confine  our  political  views 
to  the  present  age  alone ;  nor,  on  the  other,  is  it  a  duty  incumbent 
upon  us,  to  attempt  to  be«rr  a  burden  beyond  our  strength,  or  to 
contract  an  unnecessary  debt,  for  the  sake  of  posterity;  Protec 
tion  is  our  avowed  object,  and  malevolence  dares  not  accuse  us  of 
having  any  secret  or  ulterior  design.  It  is  our  true  interest  to 
cultivate  the  arts  of  peace,  and  to  improve  the  means  for  public 
and  individual  felicity,  which  heaven  has  so  liberally  granted  to 
us.  We  have  given  too  many  proofs  of  an  acquaintance  with 
this  onr  true  interest,  to  be  charged  with  being  actuated  by  mo 
tives  of  mere  ambition  and  aggrandisement.  Although  we  are 
inoffensive  to  others,  yet  we  ought  not  to  be  heedless  of  happi 
ness  for  ourselves. v  To  foresee  at  a  distance  disastrous  events, 
which  are  inevitable  in  themselves,  and  to  take  precautions  in 
time  for  averting  the  evils  which  would  otherwise  have  followed, 
are  alike  indicative  of  wisdom  in  governments  as  in  individuals. 

The  system  of  a  fair  neutrality,  adopted  by  the  United  States 
at  the  beginning  of  the  present  European  war,  notwithstanding  it 
was  subject  to  the  obloquy  of  some  persons  at  the  moment,  yet  it 
"will  probably  be  the  topic  of  applause  as  long  as  the  history  of 


A  NAVY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES.  83 

this  important  period  shall  be  known  to  posterity.    The  embar 
rassing  circumstances  which  attended  our  neutrality,  while  each 
of  the  belligerent  powers  endeavoured  alternatively  to  force  us 
into  the  war,  prevented  our  government  from  devising  any  plan 
for  the  protection  of  our  trade  so  soon  as  could  have  been  desired. 
But  this  delay  did  not  originate  from  want  of  foresight  or  from 
want  of  patriotism.    It  was  occasioned  by  a  laudable  delicacy  in 
principle,  carried  perhaps  too  far  in  practice,  to  avoid  furnish 
ing  even  a  shadow  of  pretext  to  any  of  the  belligerent  powers 
for  precipitating  us  into  hostility.     If  we  are  obnoxious  to  any 
reproach,  it  is  for  having  manifested  too  much  patience  hi  suffer 
ing  wrongs,  and  too  much  slowness  in  arming  for  the  vindication 
of  our  rights.     But  we  now  experience  the  advantage  of  this  con 
duct,  in  finding  more  unanimity  at  home,  from  a  conviction  in  all 
classes  of  people,  .that  we  could  not  have  supinely  endured  those 
spoliations  any  longer  wjthout  having  been  reduced  to  the  last  de 
gree  of  national  degradation ;  as  well  as  from  an  opinion  spread 
abroad,  that  our  long  forbearance  was  by  no  means  the  effect  of 
fear,  and  that  the  measures  to  which  we  were  finally  constrained 
to  resort  for  the  protection  of  our  trade,  have  been  crowned  with 
uncommon  success.     The  resort  to  these  measures  has  likewise 
discovered  resources  almost  unknown  to  ourselves,  and  entirely 
unexpected  by  the  rest  of  mankind.     In  fine,  the  firm  and  dig 
nified  position  which  our  government  assumed,  in  refusing  to  com 
ply  with  the  demand  of  the  late  French  government  for  purchas 
ing  a  shameful  peace  with  money,  and  in  displaying  the  resolution 
of  repelling  by  force  of  arms  every  futui'e  aggression  from  any 
nation  whatsoever,  have  justly  elevated  our  national  character  in 
the  judgment  of  the  world.     And  the  more  especially,   because 
these  events  took  place  at  the  very  time  when  several  once  re 
spectable  powers  had  prostrated  themselves,  in  mean  submission, 
at  the  feet  of  the  Directory. 

Taking  it  for  granted,  that  the  good  policy  of  permitting  our 
merchants  to  arm  their  private  vessels  for  their  own  defence,  and 
of  sending  to  sea  a  number  of  public  armed  vessels  to  co-operate 
in  compelling  a  due  respect  for  our  flag,  is  now  generally  acknowr 
ledged ;  it  may  not,  however,  be  improper  to  offer  a  few  further 
reflections  on  the  expediency  of  prosecuting  the  same  system. 
When  a  reasonable  and  enlightened  people,  like  the  citizens  of  the 
United  States,  perceive  the  wisdom  and  advantage  of  any  import 
ant  public  measure,  there  can  be  no  doubt  they  will  exert  themr 
selves  to  the  utmost  of  their  abilities  to  carry  it  into  execution.. 
No  querulous  inquiry,  in  regard  to  the  expense,  would  then  bpr 
made,  with  an  intention  of  defeating  or  retarding  the  operation  of 


8-4  THOUGHTS  ON  MAINTAINING 

the  measure.    As  for  example ;  in  the  present  case  it  would  rather 
be  inquired,  how  far  the  property  taken  from  us  by  the  French 
armed  vessels,  in  addition  to  that  taken  from  us  by  the  armed  ves 
sels  of  other  nations  during  this  abominable  war,  would  have  suf 
ficed  for  providing  a  maritime  force  for  the  protection  of  our  trade? 
Whether  we  are  not  still  in  danger  of  suffering  similar  or  greater 
losses,  if  we  shall  decline  to  furnish  the  means  for  defraying  the 
expenses  of  pi'osecuting   the  defensive    system?     And,    finally, 
whether  the  opinion  once  strongly  impressed  on  the  different  ma 
ritime  powers  of  Europe,  that  we  are  determined,  at  every  hazard, 
to  defend  our  property  when  lawfully  navigated  on  the  ocean,  will 
not  more  than  probably  prevent  us  from  being  plunged  into  war  by 
any  of  them?    If  the  observation,  in  its  general  application,  be 
true,  "  that  to  be  prepared  for  war  is  the  way  to  prevent  it," 
certainly  it  cannot  be  less  applicable  to  ourselves  on  the  present 
occasion,   since  the  rapid  increase  of  our  population,  resources 
and  political  importance  are  not  unknown  to  any  of  the  naval 
nations  of  Europe.     Most  of  them  having  valuable  colonies  in  our 
neighbourhood,  and  some  of  them  carrying  on  a  rich  commerce, 
which  must  pass,  as  it  were,  before  our  doors,  would  naturally 
feel  no  small  apprehension,  that  in  case  of  their  attacking  us,  both 
colonies  and  commerce  might  be  liable  to  severe  retaliation.     But 
should  all  these  considerations  prove  insufficient  for  removing  the 
objection  which  some  few  persons  may  still  make  to  the  expense,  it 
must  be  remembered  that,    if    we  are  desirous  of  continuing  a 
trade  with  other  countries,  in  which  we  are  to  be  the  carriers  of 
our  own  produce,  or,  in  other  words,  if  we  are  determined  (as  it  is 
presumed  we  are)  to  afford  the  greatest  practicable  encouragement 
to  our  agriculture,  by  giving  a  facility  to  the  exportation  of  our 
own  produce,  no  option  is  left  for  us — the  system  of  defence  is 
indispensably  necessary.      In   an  adherence  to  this    system    the 
interests  of  the  merchant  and  the  farmer  are  equally  concerned. 
And  with  it  are  connected  the  continuance  of  industry,  the  in 
crease  of  revenue,  and,  in  general,  the  prosperity  of  the  state. 

In  order  that  the  facility  of  maintaining  a  marine  establishment, 
adequate  to  all  the  purposes  of  protection,  without  over-burdening 
ourselves  with  the  expenses,  may  be  the  more  easily  perceived, 
it  will  be  Avell  to  consider  that  our  principal  fiscal  resources  may 
be  appropriated  to  this  service  without  detriment  to  any  other. 
We  have  frequently  occasion  to  congratulate  ourselves  upon  being 
separated  from  the  other  quarters  of  the  globe  by  the  ocean :  the 
difficulty  of  crossing  the  Atlantic  with  a  sufficient  force  would 
make  it  appear  little  short  of  madness  in  any  nation  of  Europe  to 
meditate  the  conquest  of  our  country.  Our  local  situation,  cutting 


A  NAVY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES.  85 

us  off  by  water  from  all  the  other  parts  of  the  world,  happily 
exempts  us  from  the  burden  of  maintaining  large  standing  armies 
in  time  of  peace.  A  well-organized  militia,  and  a  few  regular 
regiments,*  will  always  be  sufficient  for  our  ordinary  defence  upon 
the  land.  Powerful  standing  armies,  in  time  of  peace,  have  often 
and  justly  excited  patriotic  jealousies.  But  the  most  jealous  re 
publicans  cannot  apprehend  any  danger  to  the  public  liberty 
from  the  establishment  and  maintenance  of  a  navy.  A  defence  on 
the  water  is  therefore  our  most  natural,  most  necessary,  and  most 
efficacious  defence.  And  the  chief  expenditure  for  the  national 
protection  being  confined  to  this  single  object,  it  is  rationally  to 
be  presumed  that,  after  a  little  time,  no  extraordinary  exertion 
will  be  necessary  for  furnishing  ample  supplies  for  this  service. 
To  prevent  it  fi*om  ever  becoming  burdensome,  we  ought,  as  far 
as  the  circumstances  will  allow,  to  begin  and  persevere  in  an  ceco- 
nomical  administration  of  the  department.  The  Romans  had  a 
saying?  "  that  it  is  right  to  learn  from  an  enemy."  In  naval  ceco- 
nomy  we  received  useful  instruction  from  England  during  our 
revolutionary  war.  And  in  peace  shall  we  be  less  proud  of  pro 
fiting  by  English  experience  ?  No  other  nation  is  now  so  capable 
of  giving  lessons  in  maritime  affairs,  for  no  other  nation  has  had 
such  opportunities  of  acquiring  practical  knowledge  for  maintain 
ing  and  conducting  naval  armaments.  The  victories  gained  by 
the  English  fleets  have  proved  that  those  opportunities  were  not 
offered  in  vain.  In  no  other  article,  perhaps,  do  the  inhabitants 
of  united  America  so  clearly  demonstrate  their  descent  as  in 
their  aptitude  for  a  sea-faring  life.  We  possess  artificers  and 
mariners  equally  skilled  in  their  professions  with  those  who  exist 
at  present  in  England,  together  with  more  of  the  materials  re 
quisite  for  building,  equipping  and  supporting  a  marine.  If,  in 
imitation  of  the  English  Admiralty,  we  shall  keep  the  circulat 
ing  medium  expended  on  this  department,  in  our  own  country  as 
much  as  possible,  and  pay  the  crews  of  our  ships  only  in  our  own 
ports,  we  may  be  well  assured  that  the  money  applied  to  this 
service  will  be  principally  retained  at  home,  promote  the  activity 
of  business  in  circulating  from  hand  to  hand,  and,  at  least,  a  pro- 
portion  of  it  return  again  into  the  public  treasury.  This  ROT  INK 
seems,  in  truth,  one  of  the  most  notable  secrets  of  the  British 
government,  for  continually  finding  specie  sufficient  to  defray  the 
enormous  disbursements  for  their  naval  establishment.  Let  us 
take  their  naval  arrangements  for  our  model  in  whatever  is 
worthy  of  imitation. 

*  Institutions  for  propagating  military  knowledge  are  also  extremely  neceisary. 


86  THOUGHTS  ON  MAINTAINING 

On  the  always  delicate  subject  of  manning  a  navy,  it  is  intended 
merely  to  offer  a  few  hints,  which  will  be  accepted  or  rejected  by 
those  whose  duty  shall  call  them  to  decide  on  the  whole  arrange 
ment  of  our  marine  establishment,  according  as  the  project  pro 
posed  shall  be  just  or  unjust,  convenient  or  inconvenient,  reason 
able  or  unreasonable.     In  many  nations  the  mode  of  almost  indis 
criminate  impression  has  been  practised.     In  some  an  auxiliary 
corps  has  been  established ;  in  others  the  number  of  men  wanted 
has   sometimes  been   proportioned   to   the   parishes.     It  would, 
doubtless,  every  where  be  desirable  to  obtain  a  full  complement 
of  volunteers.     This  may  be  effected  without  any  inconvenience 
for  the  moment.     But  in  America,  where  wages  are  higher  than 
they  are  in  any  other  country  in  the  world,  this  may  perhaps  be 
attended  with  difficulty,  delay,  and  even  danger  to  the  common 
wealth,  on  some  extraordinary  emergency.     Let  us  see  then,  be 
fore  such  an  emergency  can  happen,  what  could  be  done  by  re 
sorting  to  a  MARITIME  CONSCRIPTION.     In  wishing  to  avoid  the 
serious  and  great  evils  which  have  occurred  and  do  occur,  in  pro 
curing  men  for  the  naval  service  in  most  if  not  all  other  nations, 
it  has  already  been  respectfully  submitted  to  the  consideration  of 
some  of  the  most  distinguished  public  characters  in  the  United 
States,  whether  a  kind  of  NAVAL  MILITIA  might  not  be  esta 
blished  for  manning  our  vessels  of  war?     Whether,  for  that  pur 
pose,  the  seamen  ought  not  to  be  enregistered  throughout  the  dif 
ferent  States?     And  whether  each  State  should  not  be  required  to 
furnish   its   quota  when   necessary?     These   propositions   were 
founded   upon  the  generally  received  doctrine,    that  every  man 
•who  enjoys  the  protection  of  government  owes  a  certain  propor 
tion  of  his  personal  service  to  the  defence  of  himself  and  his  fel 
low  citizens,  in  the  way  most  suitable  to  his  profession.     And  shall 
seamen,  who  have  certainly  not  less  occasion  for  the  protection 
of  their  government  than  any  other  class  of  citizens,  be  exempted 
from  this  obligation  ?     Might  not  the  law  be  so  modified  with  re 
spect  to  its  execution,  as  well  as  in  regard  to  the  service,  as  not  to 
be  eluded  on  the  one  hand,  or  oppressive  to  a  most  useful  body  of 
men  on  the  other?    This  project  is  now  for  the  first  time  publicly 
suggested,*  without  its  being  thought  necessary  to  enter  into  the 
detail  of  it.     If  the  project  be  unjust,  inexpedient,  or  impracti 
cable,  it  will  be  left  in  oblivion ;   if  otherwise,  whatever  modifi 
cations  may  be  essential  for  the  better  adapting  it  to  circumstances, 
and  putting  it  in  practice,  will,  of  course,  present  themselves  in 
the  discussion  of  it.    By  a  protected  commerce,  and  profitable 

*  At  least  in  the  United  States,-  or,  to  the  knowledge  of  the  writer,  at  present  in  any 
other  cauutry. 


A  NAVY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES.  87 

fishery,  the  nursery  of  seamen  will  be  constantly  augmented. 
Nations  destitute  of  these  advantages  can  never  create  and  sus 
tain  a  national  marine  but  by  driving  men  from  their  proper  ele 
ment,  and,  if  the  expression  may  be  permitted,  maintaining  a 
constant  struggle  with  nature  itself.  We  possess  these  advan 
tages  in  an  extraordinary  degree.  And  even  with  these,  no 
means  ought  to  be  omitted  to  render  the  profession  still  more  allur 
ing  by  good  regulations,  honourable  by  public  encouragements, 
and  lucrative  by  liberal  pay  in  time  of  peace,  and  the  distribution 
of  prize-money  and  other  rewards  in  time  of  war.  It  may  then 
be  reasonably  expected  that  the  bias  of  a  people  whose  genius  in 
clines,  and  whose  capacity  fits  them  peculiarly  for  the  sea  service, 
will  contribute  much  towards  manning  our  navy.  In  the  mean 
time,  the  glory  of  our  flag  should  be  the  burden  of  many  an  en 
livening  song,  and  the  theme  of  many  an  animated  oration.  It  is 
by  such  means  that  the  predilection  for  a  sea-faring  life  should 
be  confirmed  in  those  who  are  already  capable  of  serving  their 
country  in  this  department ;  and  that  our  children  should  be  taught 
from  the  very  cradle  to  believe  there  is  a  fairer  chance  for  advanc 
ing  their  fortunes  in  that  mode  of  life  than  in  almost  any  other. 

It  need  not  be  insisted  upon,  because  it  is  a  truth  notorious  to  all 
those  who  will  be  in  a  condition  to  judge  of  the  propriety  or 
utility  of  these  remarks,  that  our  commerce  in  the  Mediterranean 
is  becoming  every  day  more  extensive  and  more  profitable.  It  is 
equally  unnecessary  to  add,  that  the  danger  of  its  being  inter-* 
rupted  will  of  course  hold  some  proportion  to  its  increasing  value 
and  defenceless  situation :  for  who  has  not  heard  of  the  insatia 
ble  cupidity  of  the  Barbary  regencies,  or  of  the  frivolous  pre 
tences  they  frequently  find  to  declare  war  solely  for  the  purpose 
of  obtaining  plunder  ?  Their  avarice  is  like  the  thirst  of  a  burn 
ing  fever — It  can  never  be  satisfied — the  more  it  receives,  the 
more  it  craves — and  it  will  for  ever  cry,  "  not  enough."  Although 
a  peace  has  been  concluded  with  all  the  powers,  yet  no  person  in 
his  sober  senses,  who  is  acquainted  with  their  usual  practices, 
will  calculate  upon  its  long  duration.  By  foi-ce  of  presents  and 
douceurs,  they  may  be  restrained  from  depredations  for  a  little 
time ;  but  tempted  as  they  are  by  the  prospect  of  booty,  and  in 
vited  by  the  want  of  protection,  is  it  possible  we  should  continue 
that  navigation  (if  it  shall  remain  unprotected)  without  becoming, 
at  one  period  or  another,  the  dupes  of  our  credulity,  and  the  vic 
tims  of  their  perfidy?  But  if  the  jealous  policy  of  some  other 
nations  shall  be  taken  into  the  account,  we  may  fairly  calculate 
that  the  period  will  be  considerably  accelerated.  Thence  it  is 
conceived  to  be  more  expedient,  and  even  more  necessary,  to 


«8  THOUGHTS,  &c. 

keep  a  small  naval  force  in  the  Mediterranean  than  in  any  other 
sea,  in  order  that  we  may  shun  the  afflicting  consequences  which 
would  probably  follow,  from  a  sudden  rupture  with  either  of  those 
powers — an  event  so  much  to  be  expected,  that  it  will  be  next  to 
a  miracle  if  it  should  not  happen  within  the  course  of  a  few  years. 
If  either  of  those  powers  should  suddenly  declare  war  against  us, 
the  value  of  the  property  which  would  fall  into  their  hands,  and  the 
expense  of  redeeming  our  citizens  from  slavery,  would  probably 
amount  to  a  greater  sum  of  money  than  would  have  maintained 
a  naval  force  on  that  station  powerful  enough  to  have  prevented 
the  catastrophe ;  for  a  few  strong  frigates,  together  with  a  few  fast 
sailing  smaller  armed  vessels,  would  be  sufficient  for  the  purpose. 

A  combination  formed  between  the  United  States  and  some  of 
the  maritime  powers  of  the  second  order  (whose  interest  is  gene 
rally  the  same  as  ours,  to  resist  the  spoliations  of  the  free-booters 
of  all  regions  and  religions),  such  as  Sweden,  Denmark,  Portu 
gal,  &c.  would  afford  the  means  of  extirpating  piracy  in  a  short 
time,  and  at  a  small  expense.  The  frequent  interruption  and 
great  detriment  which  the  commerce  of  Sweden  and  Denmark 
has  recently  suffered  would,  in  all  probability,  induce  them  to  ac~ 
cept  such  a  proposal  with  not  less  sincerity  than  eagerness. 

The  Portuguese  government  has,  for  several  years  past,  been  in 
the  habit  of  keeping  an  armed  force  constantly  afloat  at  the  en 
trance  of  the  Mediterranean.  That  government  has  thereby 
completely  blocked  all  the  corsairs  of  the  Barbary  states  within 
that  sea ;  and  it  has  trained,  in  rotation,  a  respectable  number  of 
seamen  to  active  service  on  board  its  ships  of  war.  This  mea 
sure  seemed  the  more  necessary  in  a  nation,  once  the  most  enter- 
prizing  and  skilful  in  maritime  affairs  of  any  in  the  world,  for  the 
purpose  of  preventing  the  remains  of  that  enterprize  and  that 
skill  from  being  lost.  It  has  accordingly  met  with  merited  suc 
cess,  and  that  marine  is  at  present  far  from  being  in  a  despicable 
state.  This  is  not,  however,  mentioned  particularly  as  a  motive 
to  operate  with  the  people  of  the  United  States,  who  ai*e,  per 
haps,  behind  no  other  people  in  a  propensity  for,  or  experience 
in,  the  nautical  art.*  But  should  the  disasters  before  intimated 
ever  happen  for  want  of  suitable  precautions,  it  cannot  be  said 
hereafter,  "  what  a  misfortune  it  is  for  us  that  these  things  had 
not  been  foreseen  and  foretold  "  Ye  are  forewarned — be  ye  fore 
armed — and  let  preparation  supersede  the  necessity  of  repentance ! 

The  writer  will  only  add,  it  is  time  the  ocean  should  be  made 
what  heaven  intended  it,  an  open  highway  for  all  mankind. 

*  This  refers,  in  a  special  manner,  to  the  merchant-service,  cod-fishery,  and  whaling. 


A 

POEM 

ON    THE 

INDUSTRY 

OF    THE 

UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA. 

WRITTEN  IN  LISBON 
WHEN    THE 

AVTHQZ  WAS  MINISTER  AT  THAT  COURT. 


N 


TO  HIS  ROYAL  HIGHNESS 

THE  PRINCE  REGENT  OF  PORTUGAL, 

SIRE, 

IN  the  long  conflict  which  terminated  by  severing  the  ties  that 
attached  the  ancient  colonies,  now  the  United  States  of  America, 
to  the  mother  country,  Great-Britain,  the  Portuguese  government, 
equitable  in  its  policy  to  the  former,  and  faithful  to  its  alliance  with 
the  latter,  could  only  have  been  expected  to  preserve  a  strict  neu 
trality.    Some  time  after  the  conclusion  of  that  war,  it  was  my 
destiny  to  have  been  employed  on  a  public  mission  to  her  most 
Faithful  Majesty,  for  the  purpose  of  cementing  and  consolidating 
the  friendship  of  our  two  governments  and  nations.     Commercial 
and  friendly  relations,  I  will  dare  to  say  mutually  beneficial,  of 
an  enlarged  and  valuable  nature  were  formed.     To  have  been  the 
the  first  Minister  from  the  United  States  of  America  to  Portugal ; 
to  have  been  instrumental  in  opening  an  extensively  advantageous 
intercourse  between  the  inhabitants  of  the  two  countries ;  to  have 
never  been  involved  in  any  unpleasant  discussion ;  and  to  have  en 
joyed  the  uninterrupted  favour  of  the  Royal  Family  of  Braganza, 
when  accredited  as  a  diplomatic  agent  near  its  chief  for  more 
than  seven  years,  are  circumstances  which  will  continue  to  be  re 
membered,  with  conscious  pleasure,  to  the  latest  period  of  my  life. 
And  never  shall  I  hesitate  to  acknowledge,  with  manly  gratitude, 
the  liberal  and  amicable  conduct  of  the  cabinet  of  Lisbon  towards 
the  United  States  as  a  nation,  and  myself  as  their  representative. 
Nor  ought  my  acknowledgments  to  be   expressed  with  less  de? 
ference  or  cordiality  for  the  distinguished  treatment  which  I  expe 
rienced  in  the  particular  audience  recently  accorded  by  the  Prince 
Regent  of  Portugal  to  me,  in  my  private  character,  when  he  sig 
nified  his  great  satisfaction  at  being  presented  with  the  following 
Poem. 

The  Poem,  which  treats  of  the  national  industry  of  the  United 
States,  was  composed  on  the  delightful  banks  of  the  Tagus,  while 
I  was  thus  honourably  occupied  on  a  public  mission,  and  when  my 
flays  were  pleasantly  passed  in  the  enjoyment  of  health,  happiness, 


92  DEDICATION. 

and  content.     To  whom,  then,  could  it  with  more  propriety  be 
addressed  than  to  the  Prince  Regent  of  Portugal  ? 

Actuated  by  a  lively  sense  of  such  enviable  distinctions,  I  offer 
the  tribute  of  sincerity  in  inscribing  this  Poem  as  a  testimony  of  re 
spect  for  a  "  JUST  PRINCE  ;"  an  afifiellation  which  I  had  the  most 
satisfactory  reasons  for  applying*  when  I  took  leave  of  the  Court 
of  Lisbon,  in  1797,  and  which  has  since  been  confirmed  by  almost 
innumerable  titles.  If,  Sire,  I  have  ever  wished  for  a  capacity  of 
paying  a  still  larger  tribute  of  honour  where  it  is  most  due,  it  was 
that  your  princely  and  personal  virtues  might  be  as  advantageously 
known  to  the  remotest  posterity  as  to  the  existing  generation. 

With  these  sentiments  of  your  munificent  public  and  exemplary 
private  conduct, 

I  have  the  honour  to  profess  myself, 
Sire, 

Your  Royal  Highness's  most  devoted 
And  most  humble  servant, 

D.  HUMPHREYS. 
Lisbon,  Afiril  14,  1802. 


See  the  Sonnet  addressed,  on  that  occasion,  to  the  Prince  of  Brazil. 


ADDRESS 

TO  THE 

PEOPLE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA. 

J.  HE  main  scope  of  the  author's  principal  productions  in  verse, 
has  been  to  indicate  to  his  fellow-citizens,  in  a  connected  manner, 
the  measures  best  calculated  for  increasing  and  prolonging  the 
public  felicity.  He  deemed  the  success  of  our  revolution  the  broad 
basis  on  which  this  superstructure  was  to  be  built.  The  first  thing 
to  be  done  was  to  establish  our  independence ;  the  second  to  prepare 
the  national  mind  to  profit  by  our  unusual  advantages  for  happi 
ness  ;  and  the  next  to  exhibit  in  perspective  those  numberless  bles 
sings  which  Heaven  has  lavished  around  us,  and  which  can 
scarcely  be  lost  but  by  our  own  folly  or  fault.  Having  attempted 
to  furnish  his  countrymen  with  some  seasonable  arguments  and  re 
flections  on  these  subjects,  in  his  *'  Address  to  the  Armies,"  in  his 
"  Poem  on  the  Happiness  of  America,"  and  in  the  "  Prospect  of 
the  Future  Glory  of  the  United  States,"  he  proposes  now  to  show 
the  prodigious  influence  of  national  industry  in  producing  public 
and  private  riches  and  enjoyments. 

One  of  the  primary  objects  of  a  good  government  is  to  give 
energy  and  extent  to  industry,  by  protecting  the  acquisitions  and 
avails  of  their  labour  to  the  governed.  This  industry  is  the  cause 
of  the  wealth  of  nations.  It  hastens  their  advancement  in  the  arts 
of  peace,  and  multiplies  their  resources  for  war.  Under  such  a 
safeguard,  mankind,  engaged  in  any  lawful  and  productive  pro 
fession,  will  advance,  at  the  same  moment,  their  own  interest  and 
that  of  the  commonwealth.  Universal  prosperity  must  ensue. 
With  us,  the  successful  issue  has  been  the  best  panegyric  of  such 
a  system.  Could  industry  become  generally  fashionable  and  pre 
valent,  indigence,  and  the  calamities  that  flow  from  it,  would  be 
confined  within  very  narrow  channels.  With  a  few  exceptions, 
such  as  are  offered  by  the  bee,  the  ant,  and  the  beaver,  social  toil, 
which  accomplishes  works  truly  astonishing  for  their  contrivance 
and  magnitude,  distinguishes  the  human  race  from  every  species 
of  the  animal  creation.  A  reciprocation  of  wants  and  aids,  as  it 
were,  rivets  man  to  his  fellows.  What  isolated  person  can  per 
form  for  himself  every  act  which  his  helpless  and  feeble  state  re 
quires  ?  By  a  combination  of  well-directed  efforts,  what  miracles 
of  improvement,  what  prodigies  in  refinement,  may  be  effected ! 
The  expediency,  and  even  the  necessity  of  concerted  and  perse- 


94  ADDRESS  TO  THE  PEOPLE  OF  THE 

vering  operations,  have  a  natural  tendency  to  confirm  and  aug 
ment,  through  the  medium  of  mutual  services  and  benefits,  fidelity, 
kindness,  valour  and  virtue,  among  the  members  of  civil  society. 
Who,  then,  will  envy  the  indolent  and  comfortless  lot  of  the  so 
litary  savage,  or  the  thinly  scattered  tribes  of  the  desert? 

The  influence  of  industry  is  not  less  efficacious  in  procuring  per 
sonal  advantage  and  fruition  for  individuals.  It  commonly  gives 
health  of  body  and  serenity  of  mind,  together  with  strength  of  re 
solution  and  consistency  of  character.  It  thus  furnishes  a  kind  of 
moral  force  for  overcoming  the  sluggishness  of  matter,  which  con 
stantly  inclines  to  repose.  Influenced  by  a  desire  of  being  free 
from  humiliating  dependence  and  degrading  penury,  every  man, 
who  is  not  visited  by  sickness  or  prevented  by  disaster,  will  be  en 
abled,  in  his  youthful  days,  to  provide  a  plentiful  subsistence  for 
his  old  age ;  so  that,  in  the  last  stages  of  infirmity  and  decrepi 
tude,  distress  and  mendicity  will  seldom,  if  ever,  be  seen.  Such 
is  now  the  condition  of  the  people  of  the  United  States  of  Ame 
rica.  To  flatter  the  idle  and  worthless,  by  perpetually  declaiming 
on  the  duty  of  the  industrious  and  wealthy  to  dispense  largely  their 
contributions  and  charities,  is  the  insidious  language  often  used  in 
Europe  by  many  vociferous  demagogues  and  revolutionary  scribr 
biers.  To  prevent  poverty  as  much  as  possible,  by  presenting 
employment  to  protected  and  provident  industry,  is  the  high  office 
of  a  wise  and  just  government.  In  our  country  that  policy  has 
been  successful  beyond  all  former  example.  The  traveller  may 
journey  thousands  of  miles  without  meeting  a  single  beggar.  And 
herein  a  striking  difference  will  be  remarked  between  our  country 
and  most  of  the  countries  in  the  world. 

That  industry  is  capable  of  speedily  changing  a  dreary  wilder 
ness  into  a  cheerful  habitation  for  men,  the  history  of  the  progress 
of  society  in  the  United  States  of  America  has  sufficiently  proved. 
It  is  at  present  generally  understood,  that  an  unequalled  share  of 
happiness  is  enjoyed  by  the  inhabitants  of  this  newly  discovered 
continent.  This  is,  perhaps,  chiefly  attributable  (under  the  be 
nediction  of  Providence)  to  their  singularly  favourable  situation 
for  cultivating  the  soil.  May  we  not  fairly  calculate  that  this 
effect  will  continue  co-existent  with  the  cause ;  namely,  the  abun 
dance  and  cheapness  of  land?  An  almost  unlimited  space  of  ex 
cellent  territory  remains  to  be  settled.  Freehold  estates  may  be 
purchased  upon  moderate  terms.  Agriculture  will  probably,  for 
a  succession  of  ages,  be  the  chief  employment  of  the  citizens  of 
the  United  States. 

Notwithstanding  the  beauties  and  pleasures  of  rural  life  have 
so  frequently  been  happily  described  in  poetry,  it  was  presumed 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  95 

the  settlement  and  cultivation  of  a  new  hemisphere  might  supply 
some  new  topics  and  allusions.  There  many  things  wore  a  novel 
appearance,  when  examined  in  their  process  and  result.  The 
agricultural  character  was  presented  in  action,  with  more  than 
usual  effect  and  felicity.  The  changes  were,  in  some  respects, 
like  those  in  a  garden  of  enchantment.  Upon  the  introduction 
of  civilization  into  those  rugged  and  inhospitable  regions,  whose 
barbarity  was  coeval  with  the  world,  forests  fell,  houses  rose,  and 
beautiful  scenery  succeeded.  It  was  not  intended,  by  deviating 
from  the  beaten  track  of  describing  old  establishments,  to  run 
unnecessarily  into  the  bye-path  of  innovation  and  singularity. 
Many  American  prospects  rose  before  the  author's  transported 
imagination,  when  he  was  far  absent  from  his  native  land.  How 
frequently  did  he  wish  for  a  magic  pencil  to  make  them  equally 
present  to  the  mental  sight  of  his  European  friends !  How  often, 
and  with  how  much  ardour,  did  his  fancy  dwell  on  the  humble  and 
unvarnished  blessings  of  peace,  when  contrasted  with  the  proud 
and  dazzling  miseries  of  war  I  In  thus  ruminating  on  the  walks 
of  still  life,  he  hoped  he  should  at  least  be  permitted,  without  in 
curring  the  displeasure  of  any  ill-natured  critic,  to  proceed  in  a 
course  so  amusing  to  himself,  picking  here  and  there  a  wild  or  cul 
tivated  flower,  and  attempting  to  delineate  such  landscapes  as  he 
might  occasionally  find,  interspersed  with  scenes  of  romantic 
grandeur  or  domestic  simplicity. 

This  Poem  was  pi'oposed  to  be  so  constructed  as  to  permit  sen 
timent  to  be  mingled  with  description,  without  appearing  mis 
placed.  The  author  makes  no  excuse  for  having  bestowed  a  por 
tion  of  his  mortal  duration,  not  immediately  claimed  by  business 
or  duty,  in  recommending  to  his  countrymen  that  industry,  which, 
he  conceives,  would  most  effectually  promote  their  temporal  hap 
piness.  In  this,  as  in  every  thing  not  unlawful,  he  feels  himself 
a  free  agent,  accountable  for  his  actions  to  his  conscience  and  liis 
God.  Yet  it  would  be  an  unworthy  affectation  to  pretend  a  total 
insensibility  to  the  opinion  of  others,  or,  more  properly  speaking, 
to  that  of  the  enlightened  and  virtuous  part  of  the  community. 
However  sensible  he  might  be  to  their  favourable  decision,  he 
must  be  allowed  to  be  more  ambitious  of  deserving  than  obtaining 
it.  Consciousness  of  an  upright  endeavour  to  serve,  and  a  reasona 
ble  solicitude  to  please,  those  to  whom  this  address  is  offered,  may 
satisfy  himself.  No  one  more  sincerely  or  fervently  desires  their 
attainment  of  felicity.  If  any  thing  produced  or  done  by  him  shall 
have  been  obviously  calculated  for  that  object,  he  will  have  per 
formed  the  most  pleasing  task  which  he  could  have  imposed  on 
himself. 

D»  HUMPHREYS, 


ARGUMENT.  • 

The  Genius  of  Culture  invoked— prodigious  effect  of  toil  in 
changing  the  fate  of  nature — -state  of  our  country  when  it 
was  first  settled  by  our  ancestors — their  manly  efforts  crowned 
with  success — contrast  between  JVbrth  and  South-America — the 
latter  remarkable  for  mines,  as  the  former  is  for  agricul 
ture — in  what  manner  labour  embellishes  the  land — different 
branches  of  cultivation  recommended — the  fabrication  of  ma 
ple-sugar  dwelt  upon,  as  having  a  gradual  tendency  to  the 
abolition  of  slavery — commerce  to  succeed — strong  propensi 
ties  of  the  people  of  the  United*  States  for  extensive  naviga 
tion — effeminate  nations  are  always  in  danger  of  losing  their 
independence — several  specified  which  have  experienced  the 
debilitating  consequences  of  sloth — its  destructive  influence  on 
states — Congress  called  upon  to  encourage  industry  in  the 
United  States ;  and  Washington,  as  President,  to  protect  manu 
factures — machinery  for  diminishing  the  operations  of  manual 
labour — the  loom — wool — sheep— -flax  and  hemp — remonstrance 
against  suffering  our  manufacturing  establishments  to  be  frus 
trated  by  an  unreasonable  predilection  for  foreign  fabrics— 
the  fair  sex  invited  to  give  the  example  of  encouraging  home 
manufactures— their  province  in  the  United  States — their  in 
fluence  on  civilized  society — deplorable  condition  of  savage 
life — moral  effect  of  industry  on  constitution  and  character — 
bold  and  adventurous  spirit  of  our  citizens — prepared  by  har 
diness  to  distinguish  themselves  on  the  ocean  and  in  war— 
allusion  to  our  -contest  with  Britain — happiness  of  our  present 
peaceful  situation — the  Poem  is  concluded  with  the  praises  of 
Connecticut  as  an  agricultural  State. 


A  POEM 

ON    THE 

INDUSTRY 

OF    THE 

UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA. 


vrENITJS  of  Culture!  thou,  whose  chaster  taste 

Can  clothe  with  beauty  ev'n  the  dreary  waste ; 

Teach  me  to  sing,  what  bright'ning  charms  unfold, 

The  bearded  ears,  that  bend  with  more  than  gold; 

How  empire  rises,  and  how  morals  spring,  5 

From  lowly  labour,  teach  my  lips  to  sing ; 

Exalt  the  numbers  with  thy  gifts  supreme, 

Ennobler  of  the  song,  my  guide  and  theme ! 

Thou,  toil !  that  mak'st,  where  our  young  empire  grows, 
The  wilderness  bloom  beauteous  as  the  rose,  10 

Parent  of  wealth  and  joy!  my  nation's  friend! 
Be  present,  nature's  rudest  works  to  mend ; 
With  all  the  arts  of  polish'd  life  to  bless, 
And  half  thy  ills,  Humanity !  redress. 

On  this  revolving  day,  that  saw  the  birth  15 

Of  a  whole  nation  glad  th'  astonished  earth; 
Thee .  I  invoke  to  bless  the  recent  reign 
Of  independence — but  for  thee  how  vain 
Each  fair  advantage  liberty  has  giv'n, 

And  all  the  copious  bounties  show'r'd  by  heav'n?  20 

Hail,  mighty  pow'r !  whose  vivifying  breath 
Wakes  vegetation  on  the  barren  heath ; 
Thou  changest  nature's  face ;  thy  influence  such, 
Dark  deserts  brighten  at  thy  glowing  touch; 
Creation  springs  where'er  thy  plough-share  drives,  2» 

And  the  dead  grain,  an  hundred  fold,  revives. 
Thy  voice,  that  dissipates  the  savage  gloom. 
Bade  in  the  wild  unwonted  beauty  bloom : 

O 


98  ON  THE  INDUSTRY  OF  THE 

By  thee  and  freedom  guided,  not  in  vain, 

Our  great  fore-fathers  dar'd  the  desert  main  :  30 

O'er  waves  no  keel  had  cut  they  found  the  shore, 

Where  desolation  stain 'd  his  steps  with  gore, 

Th'  immense  of  forest !  where  no  tree  was  fell'd, 

Where  savage-men  at  midnight  orgies  yelPd; 

Where  howl'd  round  burning  pyres  each  ravening  beast,         35 

As  fiend-like  forms  devour'd  their  bloody  feast, 

And  hoarse  resounded  o'er  the  horrid  heath, 

The  doleful  war-whoop,  or  the  song  of  death. 

Soon  our  progenitors  subdu'd  the  wild, 

And  virgin  nature,  rob'd  in  verdure,  smil'd.  40 

They  bade  her  fruits,  through  rifted  rocks,  from  hills 

Descend,  misnam'd  innavigable  rills: 

Bade  houses,  hamlets,  towns,  and  cities  rise, 

And  tow'rs  and  temples  gild  Columbian  skies. 

Success  thence  crpwn'd  that  bold,  but  patient  band,  45 

Whose  undegen'rate  sons  possess  the  land ; 

Their  great  fore-fathers'  principles  avow, 

And  proudly  dare  to  venerate  the  plough. 

Where  slaughter's  war-dogs  many  a  tribe  destroy'd, 
Not  such  the  race  who  fill'd  the  southern  void:  50 

For  them  unbidden  harvests  deck  the  soil, 
For  them  in  mines  unhappy  thousands  toil, 
Where  Plata's  waves  o'er  silvery  sands  are  roll'd, 
.  Or  Amazonia's  path  is  pav'd  in  gold. 

There  suns  too  fiercely  o'er  the  surface  glow,  55 

And  embryon  metals  form  and  feed  below ; 
Where,  shut  from  day,  in  central  caverns  deep, 
Hopeless  of  freedom,  wretches  watch  and  weep ; 
Compell'd  for  gold  to  rip  the  womb  of  earth, 
And  drag  the  precious  mischief  into  birth.  60 

Yet  where  those  vertic  suns  intensely  shine, 
Whose  fires  the  metals  more  than  men  refine, 
To  drain  their  limbs  of  strength  the  climate  serves, 
And  not  our  vigour  strings  their  slacken'd  nerves. 

While  all  your  gains  the  social  pact  secures,  65 

Columbians  J  say,  what  happiness  is  yours  ? 
Say,  ye  who,  not  as  tenants,  till  the  soil, 
The  joys  that  freemen  find  in  rural  toil  ? 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  99 

In  what  blest  spot,  through  all  terraqueous  space, 

Exists  a  hardier  or  a  happier  race  ?  70 

Ye  bid  your  glebes  with  future  germs  rejoice, 

And  seeds  that  sleep  inhum'd  strait  hear  your  voice. 

How  change  the  prospects  at  your  blithe  command ! 

Where  weeds  and  brambles  stood  now  flowrets  stand. 

How  blooms  the  dell,  as  spreads  the  rippling  rill,  75 

While  mottled  cattle  top  the  moving  hill ! 

Bid  marshall'd  maize  the  tassell'd  flag  unfold, 

And  wheat-ears  barb  their  glistening  spears  with  gold: 

In  northern  plains  the  orchard's  produce  glow, 

Or  with  its  beverage  pure  the  press  overflow ;  80 

In  southern  climes,  beneath  a  fervid  sky, 

Savannas,  green  with  rice,  refresh  the  eye ; 

There,  from  th'  adopted  stranger-tree,  despoil 

The  branch  that  cheers  for  peace,  the  fruit  with  oil. 

O'er  fens,  reform'd,  let  verdant  grass  succeed  85 

The  blue-ting'd  indigo — pestiferous  weed ! 

Where  dun,  hoed  fields,  afford  subsistence  scant 

For  those  who  tend  Tobago's  luxury  plant, 

Bid  other  crops  with  brighter  hues  be  crown  *d, 

And  herb  for  beast,  and  bread  for  man  abound.  90 

With  little  fingers  let  the  children  cull, 

Like  flakes  of  snow,  the  vegetable  wool ; 

Or  nurse  the  chrysalis  with  mulberry  leaves, 

The  ivorin  whose  silk  the  curious  artist  weaves : 

Let  buzzing  bees  display  the  winnowing  wing,  95 

Seek  freshest  flowers,  and  rifle  all  the  spring: 

Let  brimming  pails  beside  the  heifers  stand, 

With  milk  and  honey  flow  the  happy  land ; 

And  turn  the  wildest  growth  to  human  use, 

Ambrosial  sugar  find  from  maple-juice !  100 

Thou,  dulcet  tree,  imbue  the  flowing  song 
With  thy  distilling  drops,  untried  too  long ! 
Thee,  dancing  round  in  many  a  mazy  ring, 
The  rustic  youths  and  sylvan  maids  shall  sing. 
In  sacch'rine  streams  thou  pour'st  the  tide  of  life,  105 

Yet  grow'st  still  stronger  from  th'  innocuous  knife; 
Thy  sap,  more  sweet  than  Hybla's  honey,  flows, 
Health  for  the  heart-sick— cure  of  slavery's  woes — 
Then,  as  th'  unfailing  source,  balsamic,  runs, 
Dispense  that  cordial,  hope,  for  Afric's  sons!  110 


100  ON  THE  INDUSTRY  OF  THE 

Oh,  could  my  song  impressive  horror  bring, 
Of  conscious  guilt  th'  insufferable  sting  ; 
From  eyes  untaught  to  weep  the  tear  should  start. 
And  mercy  melt  the  long  obdur'd  of  heart. 
See  naked  negroes  rear  the  sugar'd  reeds !  115 

Behold !  their  flesh  beneath  their  driver  bleeds  ! 
And  hear  their  heart-heav'd  groans !  then  say,  how  good, 
How  sweet,  the  dainties  drugg'd  with  human  blood ! 

t  Though  night's  dark  shades  o'ercast  th'  ill-favour 'd  race, 
Nor  transient  flushes  change  the  vacant  face  ;  120 

Though  nature  ne'er  transforms  their  woolly  hair 
To  golden  ringlets,  elegantly  fair  ! 
Yet  has  not  God  infus'd  immortal  powers, 
The  same  their  organs  and  their  souls  as  ours  ? 
Are  they  not  made  to  ruminate  the  sky  ?  125 

Or  must  they  perish  like  the  beasts  that  die  ? 
Perish  the  thought  that  men's  high  worth  impairs, 
SONS  OF  OMNIPOTENCE,  AND  GLORY'S  HEIRS  ! 

Come,  ye  who  love  the  human  race  divine, 
Their  bleeding  bosoms  bathe  with  oil  and  wine,  130 

Bind  up  their  wounds — then  bless  the  dulcet  tree, 
Whose  substituted  sweets  one  slave  may  free; 
Till  new*  discoveries  more  man's  wrath  assuage, 
And  heav'n  restrain  the  remnant  of  his  rage. 

Thou,  slavery,  (maledictions  blast  thy  name  1)  135 

Fell  scourge  of  mortals,  reason's  foulest  shame ! 
Fly,  fiend  infernal  1  to  thy  Stygean  shore, 
And  let  thy  deeds  defile  my  song  no  more. 

Heav'ns !  still  must  men,  like  beasts,  be  bought  and  sold, 
The  charities  of  life  exchang'd  for  gold !  140 

Husbands  from  wives,  from  parents  children  torn, 
In  quivering  fear,  with  grief  exquisite,  mourn ! 
No,  soon  shall  commerce,  better  understood, 
With  happier  freight  promote  the  mutual  good. 


*  The  recent  invention  in  Prussia  of  extracting  sugar  from  the  Beteravt,  orEeet,it  is  to  be 
hoped  will  be  followed  by  useful  results.  This,  indeed,  may  be  expected  from  the  report  of  a 
committee  to  the  National  Institute  of  France.  Tt  is  a  well  known  fact,  that  many  families 
in  the  new  settlements  of  tire  United  States  are  entirely  supplied  with  sugar  manufactured 
from  maple-sap. 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  lot 

As  fed  by  snows  of  winter,  show'rs  of  spring,  145 

Whatever  the  seasons  in  succession  bring ; 

What  summer  ripens  and  what  autumn  yields, 

Th'  immeasurable  growth  of  fertile  fields  I 

Our  rapid  fleets  to  realms  that  want  convey, 

And  new-born  stars  in  wond'ring  skies  display.  150 

Ev'n  now  innumerous  ships,  their  flags  unfurl'd, 

With  flying  canvass  cloud  the  wat'ry  world ; 

Commercing,  steer  beneath  the  burning  line, 

Near  icy  mountains,  on  the  polar  brine ; 

From  cheerless  cliffs,  where  not  a  blossom  blows,  15S 

Whose  wild  craggs  whiten  in  eternal  snows, 

To  where  the  smooth  Pacific  Ocean  smiles, 

Cheer'd  by  the  fragrance  of  the  spicy  isles. 

Not  thus  enervate  nations  tempt  the  seas, 

By  luxury  lull'd  in  soft  voluptuous  ease ;  160 

Thence  sloth  begets  servility  of  soul, 
Degrades  each  part,  contaminates  the  whole ; 
And  taints  in  torpid  veins  the  thickening  blood, 
Like  the  green  mantle  on  a  mire  of  mud. 

Where  convents  deal  the  poor  their  daily  broth,  165 

See  charity  herself  encourage  sloth  I 
Though  helpless  some,  more  lazy  join  the  troop, 
And  healthful  beggars  swell  the  shameless  groupe. 
Will  heav'n  benignant  on  those  nations  smile, 
Where  sloth  and  vice  are  less  disgrace  than  toil?  170 

With  opiates  drunk,  in  indolence  reclin'd, 
Unbrac'd  their  sinews,  and  debauch'd  their  mind, 
Can  crowds,  turn'd  cowards,  self-esteem  retain, 
Or  long  unspoil'd  of  freedom's  gifts  remain? 
Tis  by  the  lofty  purpose,  desperate  deed,  175 

Of  men  who  dare  for  liberty  to  bleed, 
By  long  endurance,  fields  with  crimson  stain'd, 
That  independence  won,  must  be  maintain'd. 

Where  art  thou,  Athens  !  thy  high  spirit  lost! 
Where,  Sparta!  that  defied  all  Asia's  host!  180 

And  where  (in  dust  her  mould'ring  trophies  hurl'd) 
Imperial  Rome,  the  mistress  of  the  world ! 
How  Lusitania,  queen  of  diamond  mines, 
(Her  glorious  Gamas  dead)  a  widow  pines ! 
And  will  not  grave  Iberia  learn,  at  length,  185 

In  toil,  not  gold,  consists  a  nation's  strength! 


102  ON  THE  INDUSTRY  OF  THE 

How  long  shall  empires  feel,  destructive  sloth ! 

Thy  cank'ring  breath,  that  checks  and  kills  their  growth? 

If  sloth  to  dissolution  yields  the  prey, 

Take  but  the  cause,  we  take  th'  effect  away.  190 

Sages,  conven'd  from  delegating  states, 
Who  bear  the  charge  of  unborn  millions'  fates; 
From  early  systems  states  their  habits  take, 
And  morals  more  than  climes  a  difference  make : 
Then  give  to  toil  a  bias,  aid  his  cause  195 

With  all  the  force  and  majesty  of  laws ; 
So  shall  for  you  long  generations  raise, 
The  sweetest  incense  of  unpurchas'd  praise ! 

Thou,  Washington,  by  heav'n  for  triumphs  nurs'd, 
In  war,  in  peace,  of  much  lov'd  mortals  first!  200 

In  public  as  in  private  life  benign, 
Still  be  the  people  heav'n's  own  care  and  thine ! 
While  thou  presid'st,  in  useful  arts  direct, 
Create  new  fabrics  and  the  old  protect. 

Lo!  at  thy  word,  subdued  for  wond'ring  man,  205 

What  mighty  elements  advance  the  plan ; 
While  fire  and  wind  obey  the  Master's  call, 
And  water  labours  in  his  forceful  fall ! 
Teach  tiny  hands  with  engin'ry  to  toil, 

Cause  failing  age  o'er  easy  tasks  to  smile  ;  210 

Thyself  that  best  of  offices  perform, 
The  hungry  nourish  and  the  naked  warm ; 
With  gladness  picture  rescued  beauty's  eye, 
And  cheek  with  health's  inimitable  dye; 

So  shall  the  young,  the  feeble  find  employ,  215 

And  hearts  with  grief  o'erwhelm'd  emerge  to  joy. 

First  let  the  loom  each  lib'ral  thought  engage, 
Its  labours  growing  with  the  growing  age ; 
Then  true  utility  with  taste  allied, 

Shall  make  our  homespun  garbs  our  nation's  pride.  220 

See  wool,  the  boast  of  Britain's  proudest  hour, 
Is  still  the  basis  of  her  wealth  and  pow'r! 
From  her  the  nations  wait  their  wintiy  robe, 
Round  half  this  idle,  poor,  dependant  globe. 
Shall  we,  who  foil'd  her  sons  in  fields  of  fame,  2^5 

In  peace  add  noblest  triumphs  to  her  name  ? 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  103 

Shall  we,  who  dar'd  assert  the  rights  of  man, 

Become  the  vassals  of  her  wiser  plan  ? 

Then,  rous'd  from  lethargies — up !  men !  increase, 

In  every  vale,  on  every  hill,  the  fleece !  230 

And  see  the  fold,  with  thousands  teeming,  fills 

With  flocks  the  bleating  vales  and  echoing  hills. 

Ye  harmless  people!  man  your  young  will  tend, 

While  ye  for  him  your  coats  superfluous  lend. 

Him  nature  form'd  with  curious  pride,  while  bare,  235 

To  fence  with  finery  from  the  piercing  air : 

This  fleece  shall  draw  its  azure  from  the  sky, 

This  drink  the  purple,  that  the  scarlet  dye ; 

Another,  where  immingling  hues  are  giv'n, 

Shall  mock  the  bow  with  colours  dipt  in  heav'n:  240 

Not  guarded  Colchis  gave  admiring  Greece 

So  rich  a  treasure  in  its  golden  fleece. 

Oh,  might  my*  guidance  from  the  downs  of  Spain, 
Lead  a  white  flock  across  the  western  main ; 
Fam'd  like  the  bark  that  bore  the  Argonaut,  245 

Should  be  the  vessel  with  the  burden  fraught ! 
Clad  in  the  raiment  my  Merinos  yield, 
Like  Cincinnatus  fed  from  my  own  field ; 
Far  from  ambition,  grandeur,  care  and  strife, 
In  sweet  fruition  of  domestic  life ;  250 

There  would  I  pass  with  friends,  beneath  my  trees, 
What  rests  from  public  life,  in  letter'd  ease. 

To  toil  encourag'd,  free  from  tythe  and  tax, 
Ye  farmers  sow  your  fields  with  hemp  and  flax : 
Let  these  the  distaff  for  the  web  supply,  255 

Spin  on  the  spool,  or  with  the  shuttle  fly. 
But  what  vile  cause  retards  the  public  plan  ? 
Why  fail  the  fabrics  patriot  zeal  began  ? 
Must  nought  but  tombs  of  industry  be  found, 
Prostrated  arts  expiring  on  the  ground  ?  260 

Shall  we,  of  gewgaws  gleaning  half  the  globe, 
Disgrace  our  country  with  a  foreign  robe? 
Forbid  it  int'rest,  independence,  shame, 
And  blush  that  kindles  bright  at  honour's  flame ! 


*  Ssc  the  pieces  on  the  Merino  breed  of  Sheep. 


104  ON  THE  INDUSTRY  OF  THE 

Should  peace,  like  sorcery,  with  her  spells  controul  265 

Our  innate  springs  and  energies  of  soul ; 
To  you,  Columbian  dames  J  my  accents  call, 
Oh,  save  your  country  from  the  threaten'd  fall! 
Will  ye,  blest  fair !  adopt  from  every  zone 
Fantastic  fashions,  noxious  in  your  own  ?  270 

At  wintry  balls  in  gauzy  garments  drest, 
Admit  the  dire  destroyer  in  your  breast? 
Oft  when  nocturnal  sports  your  visage  flush, 
As  gay  and  heedless  to  the  halls  ye  rush, 

Then  death  your  doom  prepares :  cough,  fever,  rheum,       275 
And  pale  consumption  nip  your  rosy  bloom. 
Hence  many  a  flow'r  in  beauty's  damask  pride, 
Wither'd,  at  morn,  has  droop'd  its  head  and  died.* 
While  youthful  crimson  hurries  through  your  veins, 
No  cynic  bard  from  licit  joys  restrains ;  280 

Or  bids  with  nature  hold  unequal  strife, 
And  still  go  sorrowing  through  the  road  of  life. 
Nor  deem  him  hostile  who  of  danger  warns, 
WTho  leaves  the  rose,  but  plucks  away  its  thorns. 

In  our  new  world  not  birth  and  proud  pretence,  285 

Your  sex  from  skill  in  household  cares  dispense. 
Yet  those  where  fortune  smiles,  whom  fancy  warms, 
May  paint  historic  or  ideal  forms; 
Teach  the  fair  flow'r  on  lucid  lawn  to  spring, 
The  lute  to  languish  or  the  tongue  to  sing.  290 

With  letters,  arts,  botanic,  chemic  skill, 
Some  shall  their  leisure  hours  delighted  fill ; 
While  some,  for  studies  more  sublime  design'd, 
Expatiate  freely  o'er  the  world  of  mind: 

Another  class  on  boldest  wing  shall  soar,  295 

The  wand'ring  stars  and  ways  of  heav'n  explore; 
Still  skill'd  not  less  in  captivating  arts, 
To  move  our  passions  and  to  mend  our  hearts. 
While  tiptoe  spirits  buoy  each  graceful  limb, 
See  down  the  dance  the  lovely  fair-one  swim ;  300 

Her  own  neat  needle-work  improves  her  bloom, 
Cloth'd  in  the  labours  of  Columbia's  loom: 


*  This,  it  is  wished,  may  be  received  as  a  useful  warning  by  young  persons  against  expos 
ing  themselves,  when  too  thinly  clad,  to  the  winter  air.  Many  deaths  have  been  occasioned 
ky  imprudencics  of  this  nature. 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  los 

Her  lover  sees  express'd  upon  her  face, 

Angelic  goodness,  loveliness  and  gra"ce ; 

And  hopes,  in  bridal  bow'rs,  to  meet  those  charms,  305 

Bliss  to  his  soul  and  rapture  in  her  arms ! 

Then,  oh,  ye  fair !  refin'd  each  grosser  sense, 

'Gainst  delicacy  shun  the  least  offence. 

What  though  not  call'd  to  mix  in  cares  of  state, 

To  brave  the  storm  of  battle  or  debate;  310 

Yet  in  our  revolution  greatly  brave, 

What  high  examples  to  our  sex  ye  gave  ? 

And  still  'tis  yours  with  secret,  soft  controul, 

To  hold  a  gentler  empire  o'er  the  soul; 

In  polish'd  states  to  make,  with  sweet  behest,  315 

The  hero  happy  and  the  patriot  blest; 

To  charm  their  anxious  hours  with  cheering  smiles, 

Relieve  their  suff'rings  and  reward  their  toils. 

And  are  there  men,  with  civil  bliss  at  strife, 
Who  lavish  wanton  praise  on  savage  life?  S20 

Is  licence  freedom  ?     Can  the  general  good 
Bid  each  barbarian  quench  revenge  in  blood? 
While  wrongs,  ev'n  fancied,  set  his  soul  on  fire, 
Can  judgment  cool  unite  with  burning  ire  ? 
Or  numb'd  in  apathy,  can  that  alone  325 

Afford  the  fond  endearments  I  have  known  ? 
See  the  rude  Indian,  reason's  dictates  braves, 
And  treats  the  females  as  his  abject  slaves: 
He,  round  his  hearth,  no  circle  calls,  at  ev'n, 
To  share  the  sweetest  pleasures  under  heav'n.  330 

Regard  yon  desert,  dark  and  drear,  where  roam 
Hordes  who  ne'er  knew  a  comfortable  home: 
On  them  no  peaceful  arts  their  influence  shed, 
But  fierce  as  panthers  on  the  mountains  bred, 
They  prowl  for  prey.     For  them  the  hunted  wood  335 

Now  yields  redundant,  now  penurious  food — 
Regorg'd  or  famish'd  oft — a  miscreant  crew— 
If  few  their  wants,  their  comforts  still  more  few  J 
Ah !  when  will  virtue's  evangelic  flame 

The  frigid  wildness  of  their  tempers  tame?  340 

Till  that  bVight  hour,  no  hope  beyond  the  sky — 
Forlorn  they  live,  and  like  the  brute  they  die ! 

Of  savage  life  so  spring  the  bitter  fruits. 
For  savage  indolence  the  man  imbrutes. 

P 


106  ON  THE  INDUSTRY  OF  THE 

From  industry  the  sinews  strength  acquire,  345 

The  limbs  expand,  the  bosom  feels  new  fire. 

Unwearied  industry  pervades  the  whole, 

Nor  lends  more  force  to  body  than  to  soul. 

Hence  character  is  form'd,  and  hence  proceeds 

Th'  enlivening  heat  that  fires  to  daring  deeds:  350 

Then  animation  bids  the  spirit  warm, 

Soar  in  the  whirlwind  and  enjoy  the  storm. 

For  our  brave  tars  what  clime  too  warm,  too  cold, 

What  toil  too  hardy,  or  what  task  too  bold  ? 

O'er  storm-vex'd  waves  our  vent'rous  vessels  roll,  355 

Round  artic  isles  or  near  th'  antartic  pole; 

Nor  fear  their  crews  the  fell  tornado's  ire, 

Wrapp'd  in  a  deluge  of  Caribbean  fire. 

The  wonders  of  the  deep  they  see,  while  tost 

From  earth's  warm  girdle  to  the  climes  of  frost  r  360 

Full  soon  to  bid  the  battle's  thunder  roar, 

And  guard  with  wooden  walls  their  native  shore. 

What  like  rough  effort  fortifies  each  part, 
With  steel  the  limbs  and  adamant  the  heart ! 
What  gives  our  seamen  steadiness  of  soul,  365 

When  bursting  thunders  rend  the  redd'ning  pole, 
When  down  the  black'ning  clouds,  in  streams  that  bend 
Athwart  the  tall  shrouds,  livid  fires  descend, 
When  howling  winds  in  wild  gyrations  fly, 
And  night  sits  frantic  on  the  scowling  sky?  370 

What  makes  the  patriot  scorn  the  menac'd  blow, 
His  courage  rising  as  the  dangers  grow ! 
What  bade  our  bands — to  shield  the  commonweal — 
Bare  their  bold  bosoms  to  the  lifted  steel ; 
What  time  Virginia's  light,  with  steady  ray,  375 

Led  through  the  darksome  gloom  our  desp'rate  way; 
When  Britain,  like  a  night-storm,  hovering,  huiTd 
The  red-wing'd  vengeance  on  the  western  world ! 

Lo  I  in  that  western  world  how  chang'd  the  scene  I 
There  peace  now  shines  uncloudedly  serene ;  380 

While,  red  with  gore,  through  Europe's  realms  afar. 
Sails  the  dread  storm  of  desolating  war. 
In  Lusitania's  clime,  while  we  behold 
The  orange  gleam  with  vegetating  gold; 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  lo? 

Where  buds  and  fruits  in  gay  confusion  join,  385 

And  the  glad  vintage  purples  on  the  vine ; 

Where  sleeps  on  beds  of  rose  the  moon-light  calm, 

Honey'd  the  dew  and  steep'd  the  air  in  balm  ! 

Where  wild-heath  blooms  perfume  the  passing  gales, 

And  Tagus  whitens  with  unnumber'd  sails;  390 

Say,  shares  my  friend,*  my  fond  desires  that  rise 

For  distant  scenes  beneath  the  western  skies? 

Say,  canst  thou  love  those  scenes  in  lonely  pride, 

The  beauteous  shores  that  bound  th'  Atlantic  tide ; 

Where  hills  and  vales,  and  villages  and  farms,  395 

In  lovely  landscapes  blend  their  mingled  charms  ? 

Me,  languid  long,  new  ardour  fires  at  length, 
(With  thee  my  soul  collecting  all  her  strength) 
New  raptures  seize,  with  patriot  pride  elate, 
To  sing  the  charms  that  grace  my  native  state.  400 

Hail  favour *d  state  I  CONNECTICUT!  thy  name 
Uncouth  in  song,  too  long  conceal'd  from  fame ; 
If  yet  thy  filial  bards  the  gloom  can  pierce, 
Shall  rise  and  flourish  in  immortal  verse. 

Inventive  genius,  imitative  pow'rs,  4Q5 

And,  still  more  precious,  common-sense,  is  ours; 
While  knowledge  useful,  more  than  science  grand, 
In  rivulets  still  o'erspreads  the  smiling  land. 

Hail,  model  of  free  states !  too  little  known, 
Too  lightly  priz'd  for  rural  arts  alone:  410 

Yet  hence  from  savage,  social  life  began, 
Compacts  were  fram'd  and  man  grew  mild  to  man. 
Thee,  Agriculture !  source  of  every  joy, 
Domestic  sweets  and  bliss  without  alloy ; 

Thee,  friend  of  freedom,  independence,  worth,  415 

What  raptur'd  song  can  set  conspicuous  forth  ? 
Thine  every  grateful  gift,  my  native  soil  J 
That  ceaseless  comes  from  agricultural  toil; 
This  bids  thee,  dress'd,  with  added  charms  appear, 
And  crowns  with  glories,  not  its  own,  the  year.  420 

Though,  capp'd  with  cliffs  of  flint,  thy  surface  rude, 
And  stubborn  glebe  the  slothful  race  exclude  ; 
Though  sultry  summer  parch  thy  gaping  plains, 
Or  chilling  winter  bind  in  icy  chains; 

*  Atldresud  to  a  lady  in  L'./uon. 


108  ON  THE  INDUSTRY  OF  THE 

Thy  patient  sons,  prepar'd  for  tasks  sublime,  425 

Redress  the  rigours  of  th'  inclement  clime, 
Clothe  arid  earth  in  green,  for  glooms  supply 
The  brightest  beauties  to  th'  astonish'd  eye. 

What  though  for  us  no  fields  Arcadian  bloom, 
Nor  tropic  shrubs  diffuse  a  glad  perfume ;  430 

No  fairy  regions  picturesque  with  flow'rs, 
Elysian  groves,  or  amaranthine  bow'rs, 
Breathe  sweet  enchantment — but  still  fairer  smile, 
Once  savage  wilds  now  tam'd  by  tut'ring  toil. 
The  rolling  seasons  saw  with  rapture  strange,  435 

The  desert  blossom  and  the  climate  change. 
Roll  on,  thou  sun !  and  bring  the  prospect  bright, 
Before  our  ravish'd  view  in  liveliest  light. 
Arise  in  vernal  pride,  ye  virgin  plains ! 

With  winning  features  which  no  fiction  feigns.  440 

Arise,  ye  laughing  lawns  1  ye  gladd'nlng  glades ! 
Poetic  banks !  and  philosophic  shades ! 
Awake,  ye  meads!  your  bosoms  ope,  ye  flow'rs! 
Exult,  oh  earth!  and  heav'n  descend  in  show'rji! 

Where  the  dun  forest's  thickest  foliage  frown'd,  445 

And  night  and  horror  brooded  o'er  the  ground; 
While  matted  boughs  impenetrably  wove 
The  sable  curtains  of  th'  impervious  grove ; 
Where  the  swart  savage  fix'd  his  short  abode, 
Or  wound  through  tangled  wilds  his  thorny  road ;  450 

Where  the  gaunt  wolves  from  crag-roof 'd  caverns  prowl'd, 
And  mountains  echoed  as  the  monsters  howl'd; 
Where  putrid  marshes  felt  no  solar  beams, 
And  mantling  mire  exhal'd  mephitic  steams; 
See,  mid  the  rocks,  a  Paradise  arise,  455 

That  feels  the  fostering  warmth  of  genial  skies ! 
While  gurgling  currents  lull  th'  enchanted  soil, 
The  hill-tops  brighten  and  the  dingles  smile. 

Then  hail  for  us,  ye  transatlantic  scenes, 

Soul-soothing  dwellings !  sight-refreshing  greens !  460 

And  chiefly  hail,  thou  state !  where  virtue  reigns, 
And  peace  and  plenty  crown  the  cultur'd  plains. 

Nor  lacks  there  aught  to  soothe  the  pensive  mind, 
Its  taste  on  nature  form'd,  by  truth  refin'd: 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  10§ 

For  pure  simplicity  can  touch  the  heart,  465 

Beyond  the  glitter  and  the  gloss  of  art. 

Not  wanting  there  the  fountain's  bubbling  tide, 

Whence  flows  the  narrow  stream  and  river  wide, 

With  gladsome  wave  to  drench  the  thirsty  dale, 

Or  waft  through  wond'ring  woods  the  flitting  sail.  470 

Not  wanting  there  the  cottage  white-wash'd  clean, 

Nor  town  with  spires  that  glimmer  o'er  the  green: 

Ncr  rich  variety's  uncloying  charm, 

The  steeds  that  prance,  the  herds  that  graze  the  farm ; 

The  flocks  that  gambol  o'er  the  dark-green  hills,  475 

The  tumbling  brooks  that  turn  the  busy  mills ; 

The  clover  pastures  deck'd  with  dappled  flow'rs, 

Spontaneous;  gardens  gay  with  roseate  bow'rs; 

The  tedded  grass  in  meadows  newly  shorn, 

The  pensile  wheat-heads  and  stiff  Indian  corn ;  480 

The  grafts  with  tempting  fruit,  and  thick-leav'd  groves, 

Where  timid  birds  conceal  their  airy  loves: 

Along  th'  umbrageous  walk,  enamour'd  meet 

The  artless  pairs,  in  courtship  chaste  as  sweet, 

In  wedlock  soon  to  join — hail,  sacred  rite !  485 

Delicious  spring!  exhaustless  of  delight! 

No  poor,  for  wealth  withheld,  accuses  heav'n, 

Nor  rich,  insulting,  spurns  the  bounties  giv'n. 

No  wretched  outcast — happy,  till  beguil'd— 

Pollution's  sister,  and  affliction's  child !  490 

Shivering  and  darkling  strays  through  wintry  streets, 

And  lures  (for  bread)  to  brothels  all  she  meets ; 

Or  tir'd  and  sick,  with  faint  and  fearful  ciy, 

At  her  betrayer's  door  lies  down  to  die. 

No  scenes  of  woe  the  pleasing  prospect  blight,  495 

And  no  disgusting  object  pains  the  sight; 

For  calm  content,   the  sunshine  of  the  soul, 

With  bright'ning  ease,  embellishes  the  whole. 

Tis  rural  innocence,  with  rural  toil, 

Can  change  the  froAvn  of  fortune  to  a  smile.  500 

Ah,   let  the  sons  of  insolence  deride 
The  simple  joys  by  humble  toil  supplied: 
Not  him  whose  breast  with  fal.se  refinement  ]xmts, 
Factitious  pleasures,  artificial  wants. 

Such  scenes  delight — nor  boasts  that  state  a  claim,  505 

For  man's  or  nature's  grandest  works,   to  fame. 


110  ON  THE  INDUSTRY  OF  THE 

Of  life  sequester'd,   fond  and  frequent  theme! 
Th'  instructed  few  with  higher  reverence  deem : 
For  o'er  its  moral  part  a  lustre  shines, 
That  all  around  enlivens  and  refines.  510 

'Twas  there  the  joys  of  wedded  love  began, 
And  health  and  happiness  there  dwelt  with  man : 
The  city's  palaces  though  man  has  made, 
The  country's  charming  views  a  God  display  "d— 
Still  the  best  site  from  art  derives  new  charms,  515 

In  villas  fair  and  ornamented  farms. 

There,  while  our  freemen  share  thy  blessings,  health ! 
In  that  blest  mean  dividing  want  from  wealth ; 
How  sweet  their  food  appears !  how  lightsome  seems 
Their  daily  labour !  and  how  bright  their  dreams !  520 

Not  inexpert  to  till  or  guard  their  farms, 
Patient  in  toil,  but  terrible  in  arms, 
When  stung  by  wrong,  and  fir'd  with  patriot  rage, 
They  in  the  battle's  brunt  with  hosts  engage ! 
What  Rome,  once  virtuous,  saw,  this  gives  us  now —  525 

Heroes  and  statesmen,  awful  from  the  plough. 

And  ye,  compatriots !  who  for  freedom  fought, 
Preserve  that  prize  your  toil  and  blood  have  bought, 
(Fraternal  troop  long  tried  by  storms  of  fate, 
Surviving  soldiers  of  my  native  state,  530 

From  me  your  cherish'd  image  ne'er  shall  part, 
'Till  death's  cold  hand  shall  wring  it  from  my  heart!) 
Hcav'ns!  how  your  fields  were  heap'd  with  kindred  slain, 
While  many  a  stream  ran  crimson  to  the  main ! 
Where  a  new*  Thames  distain'd  with  carnage  fiow'd,  535 

How  the  sea  redden'd  to  receive  the  load? 
How  Danb'ry's  burning  turrets  dimm'd  the  day, 
How  Fairfield,  Norwalk,  dark  in  ashes  lay  ? 
Ye  tearless  saw  your  coasts  to  deserts  turn'd, 
Your  substance  pillag'd,  and  your  buildings  buni'd;  540 

Your  flocks  and  herds  become  th'  invaders'  spoil, 
And  the  fair  harvest  ravish'd  from  the  soil. 
Ye  saw  th'  infuriate  foe,  with  impious  ire, 
Consume  Jehovah's  hallow'd  fanes  in  fire. 

What  Gothic  rage  assail'd  the  muses'  seat,f  545 

And  hunted  science  in  her  lov'd  retreat  ? 

*  Ncw-LcnJon  in  Connecticut. 

+  Princeton  and  New-Haven  Colleges; 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  Ill 

Her  very  porch*  with  vital  purple  stain 'd, 

Her  courts  polluted  and  her  shrine  prophan'd ! 

'Twas  then  th'  obstrep'rous  drum,  th'  ear-tinkling  fife, 

Pierc'd  the  still  shades  of  academic  life ;  550 

There  Tryon  left  on  ruins,  mark'd  with  flame, 

A  dread  memorial  of  his  hated  name. 

But,  lo !  what  present  growth  exceeds  the  past, 
While  population  adds  improvements  vast ; 
For  population  doubles  still  our  force,  555 

Ere  thrice  eight  annual  suns  complete  their  course. 
How  teems  the  fresh  mould  with  luxuriant  green ! 
There,  not  a  vestige  of  the  war  is  seen ; 
And  ev'n  late  blazing  towns  that  blush'd  with  gore, 
Smile  brighter  far  and  lovelier  than  before.  560 

Not  so  for  man  will  life's  once  faded  spring, 
Return  more  sweet  and  fairer  blossoms  bring. 
No  more  will  friendship's  buried  hopes  return ! 
Say,  mem'ry !  mourning  o'er  each  hero's  urn, 
Where  now  the  dreams  that  cheer'd  my  youth  in  vain,         565 
And  where  my  youthful  friends  in  battle  slain  ? 
See,  vernal  blooms,  as  soon  as  born,  decay, 
And  each  wing'd  moment  bear  some  flow'r  away  ! 
So  fly  the  years  that  charm 'd  in  early  life, 

So  fade  the  laurels  won  in  martial  strife.  570 

Ye  vanish 'd  scenes!  ye  visionary  toys! 
Delusive  hopes !  and  transitory  joys ! 
Adieu! — but,  virtue!  cheer  our  little  lives,— 
For,  from  the  wreck,  religion  still  survives. 
Religious  zeal  our  ancestors  that  warm'd,  -'STS 

With  passions  cool'd,  their  temp'rate  habits  form'd: 
Hence  in  that  stale  is  seen  (sight  passing  strange !) 
Choice  free  and  frequent,  yet  no  lust  of  change. 
The  foreigner  admires  of  bliss  the  cause, 

In  fair  elections  and  the  reign  of  laws ;  580 

And  joys  to  find  on  shores  long  waste  and  wild, 
A  race  in  manners  undebauch'd,  yet  mild; 
Between  too  rude  and  polish'd  life,  a  stage 
That  claims  new  actors  for  a  golden  age. 


*  Mr.  Beers,  a  respectable  inhabitant  of  New-Haven,  was  killed  when  standing  peaceably 
at  his  own  door,  contiguous  to  Yale-College. 


312  ON  THE  INDUSTRY  OF  THE 

Such  sober  habits  industry  prepares,  585 

And  order  guarantees  for  freedom's  heirs. 
Say,  in  what  state,  so  soon  imbib'd  the  youth 
Til'  eternal  principles  of  right  and  truth  ? 
Where  education  such  instruction  spread  ? 

Where  on  the  mind  such  influence  morals  shed  ?  590 

Where  modesty  with  charms  so  fair  appear'd  ? 
So  honour 'd  age,  and  virtue  so  rever'd? 

Thou  fount  of  learning  where  I  drank,  thou  Yale ! 
Fount  of  religion  and  of  knowledge,  hail ! 

There,  happy  parents !  bid  our  thirsting  youth  595 

Quaff  copious  immortality  and  truth ; 
While  Dwight,  with  soaring  soul,  directs  their  way 
To  the  full  well  of  life,  in  climes  of  endless  day. 

Rejoice  in  strength  of  youth !  rejoice,  sweet  band ! 
To  rise  the  hope  and  glory  of  our  land.  600 

First  shall  the  legates  in  th'  Almighty's  name, 
Like  seers  whose  lips  were  touch'd  with  living  flame, 
Announce  the  WORD  from  HEAV'N  sublime,  refin'd, 
And  bring  mild  consolations  to  the  mind ; 

Of  future  being  the  glad  tidings  bear,  605 

And  God's  high  will  with  holy  zeal  declare ! 

Ye  champions,  prompt  to  check  the  course  of  fate, 
And  give  man's  days  their  longest,  healthiest  date ; 
Go  forth,  the  sick-man's  sleepy  couch  to  smooth, 
With  potent  drugs  the  pang  of  anguish  soothe;  610 

The  dart  of  death  avert — his  victim  save — 
And  rescue  thousands  from  th'  untimely  grave! 
For  this,  from  natm-e's  mixture,  chemic  art 
Extracts  the  healing  from  the  pois'nous  part. 
And  where  our  woods  contain  salubrious  pow'rs,  615 

In  life -prolonging  roots,  and  barks,  and  flow'rs ; 
Ye  botanists !  with  sapient  toil  explore 
Our  continent's  interminable  store, — 
A  boundless  field !  ne'er  view'd  by  human  eye, 
Where  vegetation  lives  alone  to  die.  620 

There  search  the  sylvan  world  with  eager  view, 
And  call  by  name  each  plant  that  sips  the  dew ; 
From  the  proud  pine,  his  lofty  head  who  shrouds 
la  misty  regions  mid  condensing  clouds, 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA.  113 

To  tufted  shrubs  and  gadding  vines  that  crawl,  625 

Or  humble  hyssop  springing  by  the  wall. 

Ye  advocates  for  justice  thence  proceed, 
With  pow'rful  voice  for  innocence  to  plead; 
Not  warp'd  by  favour,  flatt'ry,  gold  or  awe, 
The  firm  support  and  ornament  of  law !  630 

Hence  oft  elect  from  your  enlighten'd  band, 
Judges  and  senators  shall  rule  the  land. 

With  fancy  vivid  as  with  judgment  strong, 
Our  pride  in  genius,  as  our  first  in  song, 

Thy  intellectual  stores,  blest  Dwight !  impart,  635 

And  taste  correct  for  every  finer  art: 
Bid  wisdom's  higher  lore  with  ethics  giv'n, 
For  greatness  form  the  race,  belov'd  of  heav'n : 
Bring  to  their  breasts  her  energies  divine, 
The  grovelling  thought  to  raise,  the  gross  refine !  640 

Bid  bards  melodious  charm  the  listening  throng, 
Thrill'd  with  the  raptures  of  ecstatic  song; 
Bid,  while  the  spark  of  animation  warms, 
Imagination  body  finest  forms ; 

Creative  artists  paint  our  martial  strife,  645 

And  wake  the  slumb'ring  marble  into  life ! 

Or  should  the  hollow  brass  be  heard  to  roarfy 
And  hostile  navies  hover  round  our  shore, 
Then  bid  our  youth  along  th'  extended  coast, 
Their  country's  bulwark,  and  their  country's  boast,  650 

Horrent  in  arms,  an  iron  rampart  stand, 
To  shield  from  foes  th*  inviolable  land! 

Ere  ye  begin  to  tread  life's  wider  stage, 
In  manhood's  prime,  dear,  interesting  age ! 
Attend  a  time-taught  bard,  to  toils  inur'd,  655 

With  those  bold  chiefs  whose  blood  your  rights  secur'd: 
Ye  junior  patriots,  listen !  learn,  my  friends  I 
How  much  your  lot  on  industry  depends: 
For  God,  a  God  of  order,  ne'er  design'd 

Equal  conditions  for  the  human  kind.  660 

Equality  of  rights  your  bliss  maintains, 
While  law  protects  what  honest  labour  gains. 
Your  great  exertions  by  restraint  uncheck'd, 
Your  gen'rous  heat  undamp'd  by  cold  neglect; 

Q 


114  ON  THE  INDUSTRY,  &c. 

The  wide  career  for  freemen  open  lies,  665 

Where  wealth,  and  pow'r,  and  honour  yield  the  prize. 

Yet  should  dark  discord's  clouds  your  land  o'ercast, 

Lost  is  your  freedom  and  your  empire  past. 

Be  union  yours  I     To  guard  your  union,  heav'n 

The  general  government,  in  trust,  has  giv'n:'  670 

Then,  when  ere  long  your  fathers  sleep  in  dust, 

Preserve,  like  vestal  fire,  that  sacred  TRUST! 


A 

POEM 

r 

ON    THE 

LOVE   OF   COUNTRY. 

IN  CELEBRATION  OF  THE 

TWENTY-THIRD  ANNIVERSARY 

OF   THE 

IND  EPE  ND  E  NCE 

OF    THE 

UNITED   STATES 

OF 

AMERICA. 


TO  HIS  MAJESTY 

LOUIS, 

KING  OF  ETRURIA,  HEREDITARY  PRINCE  OF 
PARMA,  INFAJVT  OF  SPAIN,  &c.  &c.  bV. 

SIRE, 

J  AVAIL  myself  of  the  opportunity  of  a  ship  sailing  from  New- 
York  for  Leghorn,  to  transmit  my  thanks  for  the  flattering  man 
ner  in  which  your  Majesty  has  communicated  to  me,  in  your  letter, 
dated  at  Florence,  the  15th  of  February  last,  how  much  you 
should  be  gratified  by  receiving  the  dedication  of  my  poem  "  on 
the  Love  of  Country."  For  presenting  that  work  on  a  subject, 
by  which  all  nations  are  affected,  although  as  here  treated,  it  is 
particularly  applicable  to  my  countrymen,  I  did  not  apologize. 
Sentiments  of  true  policy,  and  principles  of  pure  morality,  ought 
to  be  equally  acceptable  in  all  regions  of  the  earth,  and  with  all 
descriptions  of  its  inhabitants.  Or  if  any  difference  is  to  be  al 
lowed,  I  will  be  bold  to  assert,  such  sentiments  and  principles 
claim  the  peculiar  protection  of  Avell  informed  and  beneficent  po 
tentates,  because  peculiarly  great  are  their  faculties  for  doing 
good,  and  extensive  their  spheres  of  action. 

Your  modesty,  Sire,  must  permit  me  to  say,  that  your  patron 
age  of  those  fine  arts  and  elegant  letters  which  have  rendered  the 
names  of  the  former  chief  magistrates  at  Florence  for  ever  famous, 
would  afford  the  most  ample  theme  for  eulogium  on  this  occasion ; 
and  the  interest  which  your  Majesty  so  kindly  takes  in  my  wel 
fare,  removed,  as  I  am,  at  such  an  immense  distance  from  your 
royal  residence,  could  not  fail  to  furnish  increasing  motives  for 
indulging  my  inclination  to  celebrate  the  splendid  and  amiable  qua 
lities  which  so  eminently  unite  in  your  character  as  a  monarch 
and  a  man.  But  a  fear  of  trespassing  on  the  more  precious  dis 
tribution  of  your  time,  confines  me  simply  to  professing  my  sen 
sibility  of  your  favours,  and  offering  my  prayers  for  the  felicity  of 
your  august  person  and  family.  May  yours  and  theirs  be  the 
continued  blessings  of  that  Being  "  by  whom  kings  reign  and 
princes  decree  justice!" 


118  DEDICATION. 

While  I  thus  make  an  effort  to  convey  the  proofs  of  my  grate 
ful  feelings,  by  a  vehicle  so  frail  as  this  paper,  across  the  vast 
Atlantic  Ocean,  from  the  lately  obscure  nursery  of  infant  improve 
ments  in  the  new  world,  to  the  long  celebrated*  cradle  of  reviv 
ing  literature  in  the  old,  deign,  oh  King  1  to  accept  them  as  the 
pledges  of  the  perfect  respect,  entire  devotion,  and,  if  I  might 
be  permitted  a  reciprocal  expression,  "  the  sentiments  of  sincere 
attachment,"  with  which 

I  have  the  honour  to  be, 
Your  Majesty's  most  obedient, 
And  most  humble  servant, 

D.  HUMPHREYS. 
New-Haven,  December  1,  1802. 


*  The  learned  reader  will  readily  recollect  trie  circumstances  which  render  this  expression 
tingularly  appropriate  to  Florence.  Others  must  be  referred  to  the  histories  of  the  revival  of 
arts  and  letters  in  Europe. 


Stnte  the  death  of  the  amiable  and  enlightened  sovereign  to  whom 
this  poem  was  addressed,  it  is  deemed  not  improper  to  annex 
the  following-  letter,  copied  from  the  original  in  his  own  hand 
writing^  to  the  author* 

A  Florence^  ce  15  Fevrier,  1802. 

MONSIEUR, 

-A.YANT  eu  le  plaisir  de  recevoir  v6tre  lettre  de 
conge  de  Madrid  du  15  de  Janvier,  je  profite  de  cette  occasion, 
pouv  vous  en  temoigner  ma  reconnaissance,  ainsi  que  celle  de  ma 
femme,  qui  m"  en  charge  avec  bien  de  1'exactitude.  Les  felicita 
tions  que  vous  nous  offrez  sur  les  heureux  evenements  qui  nous  ont 
signale  1'annee  derniere,  ne  peuvent  pas  certainement  manquer 
de  nous  etre  vraiment  agreables ;  et  bien  surs  que  vous  voeux  se- 
ront  toujours  les  memes  pour  nous,  et  que  vous  ne  nous  oublierez 
jamais. 

Vous  connaissez  trop  mon  attachement  pour  toutes  les  produc 
tions  litteraires,  pour  ne  pas  voir  quel  plaisir  j'aurai  a  accepter 
la  dedication  de  votre  poeme  sur  Pamour  de  la  Patrie;  je  vous 
prie  done  de  vouloir  bien  me  faire  ce  plaisir,  et  ne  jamais  douter 
de  la  sincere  reconnaissance  que  je  vous  en  conserverai. 

Je  vous  desire  en  Amerique  tous  les  bonheurs,  et  feltcites  possi 
bles,  et  que  vous  puissiez  souhaiter;  et  je  vous  prie  aussi  de  dire 
bien  de  choses  a  votre  femme,  de  ma  part.  J'espere  que  cette 
lettre  vous  trouvera  deja  en  Amerique,  et  que  vous  aurez  deja 
fini  le  voyage  de  mer,  qui  ne  laisse  pas  d'etre  long,  et  dangereux. 
Malgre  cela,  ce  serait  une  bien  grande  satisfaction  pour  moi,  si 
je  pouvais  un  jour,  voir  ces  beaux  pays  de  1'Amerique,  mais  je 
crains  bien  de  n'avoir  jamais  ce  plaisir.  En  attendant  je  vous 
prie  de  me  conserver  toujours  votre  amitie  et  attachement; 
n'oublie"z  jamais  mon  pauvre  cabinet  d'histoire  naturelle,  quand  la 
nature  offrira  quelque  chose  de  particulier ;  et  soyez  bien  persuade 
des  sentiments  de  vrai,  et  sincere  attachement  avec  lequel  je  suis, 
et  serai  toujours, 

Monsieur, 
Votre  tres  affne.  ami, 

LOUTS. 

TRANSLATION. 

SIR,  Florence,  15th  February,  1802. 

Having  had  the  pleasure  to  receive  your  farewell 
letter  from  Madrid,  of  the  15th  of  January,  I  profit  of  this  occa- 


120  LETTER. 

sion  to  testify  my  gratitude,  as  well  as  that  of  my  wife,  who  gives 
me  very  particularly  that  commission.  The  congratulations  which 
you  offer  us  on  the  happy  events  which  have  marked  for  us  the 
last  year,  cannot  certainly  fail  to  be  truly  agreeable,  being  sure 
that  your  good  wishes  will  always  be  the  same  for  us,  and  that 
you  will  never  forget  us. 

You  know  too  well  my  fondness  for  all  literary  productions, 
not  to  perceive  what  pleasure  I  shall  have  in  accepting  the  Dedi 
cation  of  your  poem  on  the  Love  of  Country:  I  pray  you  then  to 
be  pleased  to  afford  me  that  gratification,  and  never  to  doubt  the 
sincere  thankfulness  which  I  shall  always  preserve. 

I  desire  for  you  in  America  all  the  prosperities  and  felicities 
possible,  and  which  you  can  wish ;  and  I  entreat  you  to  say  a  great 
many  things  to  your  wife  on  my  part.  I  hope  this  letter  will  find 
you  in  America,  and  that  you  will  already  have  finished  the  sea- 
voyage,  which  cannot  but  be  long  and  dangerous.  Notwithstand 
ing  that,  it  would  be  a  great  satisfaction  if  I  could,  one  day,  see 
those  fine  regions  of  America;  but  I  fear  much  I  shall  never 
have  that  pleasure.  In  the  mean  time  I  pray  you  to  retain  for 
me  for  ever  your  friendship  and  attachment ;  never  forget  my  poor 
cabinet  of  natural  history  when  nature  shall  present  any  thing 
extraordinary ;  and  be  fully  persuaded  of  the  sentiments  of  true 
and  sincere  attachment,  with  which  I  am,  and  shall  ever  be, 
Sir, 

Your  most  affectionate  friend, 

LOUIS. 


ORIGINAL  PREFACE 

On  the  first  Publication  of  the  two  following  POEMS,  'which  lifer f 
written  when  the  Author  was  Minister  in  Spain. 


OHOULD  more  defects  or  imperfections  of  style  be  discerned* 
in  such  poems  of  this  collection  as  have  never  before  been  printed, 
than  were  expected,  the  writer  may  be  permitted  to  allege  his 
long  absence  from  his  country  in  mitigation  of  the  severity  of  ani 
madversion.  Since  the  summer  after  our  revolutionary  war  was. 
ended  (the  time  of  liis  first  leaving  this  land  of  his  nativity)  be 
has  remained  abroad,  w;th  some  intermissions,  nearly  fom'teen 
years.  During  the  greater  part  of  that  period,  and  particularly 
for  more  than  eleven  of  the  last  years,  he  has  heard  very  little  of 
his  native  language  spoken,  either  in  his  own  family,  or  the  socie 
ties  which  he  frequented.  Almost  the  whole  of  his  longest  pro. 
ductions  in  verse  were  composed  in  Europe.  The  poems  "  on  the- 
Happiness  of  America,"  and  "  the  Future  Glory  of  the  United 
States,"  were  written  principally  in  Paris  and  London;  that  "  on 
our  Industry"  in  Lisbon;  and  those  "  on  the  Love  of  Country," 
and  "  the  Death  of  General  Washington/'  in  Madrid. 

In  conformity  to  the  plan  which  has  been  prosecuted  in  the  pre 
ceding  sheets,  it  is  hoped  that  the  systematic  intention  of  suggest 
ing  means  for  securing  the  blessings  of  our  revolution,  and  en 
larging  the  limits  of  our  felicity,  will  be  discovered  in  the  two 
subsequent  poems ;  the  one  containing  a  dissertation  ony  and  the 
other  an  exemplification  of,  real  Patriotism. 

While  the  author  resided  in  Spain,  in  the  course  of  the  late 
European  war,  he  was  too  incessantly*  engaged  in  protecting  or 
reclaiming  the  ships  and  cargoes  of  his  fellow  citizens  concerned 
in  navigation  and  commerce,  to  have  much  leisure  for  belles  let- 


*  The  writer,  during  the  first  absence  from  his  country,  as  Minister,  addressed  to  the  De 
partment  of  State  150  dispatches;  and  during  his  second  absence  300.  While  residing  in  a 
diplomatic  character  at  Madrid,  he  passed  394  offices  to  the  first  Ministers  of  State  of  hto 
Catholic  Majesty,  and  25  to  the  Ministers  of  Finance,  He  was  honoured  with  311  answers, 
or  communications,  from  the  former,  and  17  from  the  latter.  In  addition  to  which  he  wai  en- 
%a£ed  in  torn*  correspondence  with  the  other  Ministers  of  State  and  the  high  tribunals, 

R 


122  ORIGINAL  PREFACE. 

tres.  Few  fields  can  be  more  thorny  than  that  of  remonstrance 
and  reclamation.  There  the  seeds  of  genius  could  little  more 
than  vegetate.  Even  plants  transferred  from  the  most  fertile  se 
minaries  could  find  nothing  congenial  to  foster  their  growth.  No 
blossoms  of  wit  could  flourish  amidst  the  sterilky  of  official  notes. 
In  effect,  the  dryness  of  the  diplomatic  soil,  absorbing  the  nutrition 
from  the  flowers  of  imagination,  might  well  be  supposed  unfavour 
able  to  poetical  productions.  The  interruption  of  intercourse 
with  other  countries  prevented  emulation  from  being  excited  by 
new  publications  and  learned  travellers.  The  pursuit  of  elegant 
literature  was  thus  interrupted.  Yet  some  species  of  relaxation 
from  business  was  necessary.  Notwithstanding  these  discourage 
ments,  pcetry  appeared  the  most  eligible  to  the  writer.  He  in 
dulged  feeling  possibly  more  than  he  consulted  discretion.  But  if 
he  wrote  rather  carelessly  to  please  himself  in  the  first  instance, 
when  he  contemplated  consigning  his  writings  to  the  press,  he 
would  not  treat  his  readers  with  so  little  consideration  as  not  to 
attempt  to  gratify  them,  by  giving  his  performances  all  the  cor 
rectness  in  his  power.  It  is  not  mean*  to  be  insinuated  that  the 
literary  appetite  has  been  so  pampered,  as  to  become  depraved  or 
fastidious.  But  at  a  time  when,  in  the  British  dominions  and  the 
United  States,  every  poet  who  aspires  to  celebrity,  strives  to  ap 
proach  the  perfection  of  Pope  in  the  sweetness  of  his  versification, 
it  is  conceived  the  public  taste  is  too  mnch  accustomed  to  be  re 
galed  with  such  delicacies,  to  relish  any  fioetical  entertainment 
which  is  totally  destitute  of  them.  How  far  the  choice  and  ar 
rangement  of  materials  for  the  entertainment  now  provided,  be 
indicative  of  true  or  false  taste,  must  be  left  to  that  of  critics  to 
determine, 

Whether  a  poet  Composes  from  enthusiasm  or  Avith  meditation, 
the  art  of  animating  and  keeping  alive  the  curiosity  of  his  rea 
ders  is  certainly  least  of  all  to  be  neglected.  Nothing  can  com 
pensate  for  the  want,  for  without  it  his  works  will  not  be  read. 
To  create  an  interest,  is  to  command  attention.  To  make  de 
scriptions  or  reflections  not  merely  entertaining,  but  even  intelligi 
ble,  perspicuity  is  indispensably  requisite.  But  without  distinct 
perceptions,  clear  ideas  could  not  exist  for  communication.  We 
cannot  give  to  others  that  which  we  have  not  ourselves.  Without 
luminous  comprehension,  and  lucid  order,  what  can  be  expected 
but  obscurity  and  confusion?  Without  spirit  and  intelligence, 
what  but  apathy  and  tediousness  ?  He  who  feels  not  his  subject 
strongly,  can  never  rouse  the  sensibility  of  his  readers.  The 
writer  has  endeavoured  to  prevent  his  mental  images,  whatever 
they  were,  from  being  distorted  by  abstract  phraseology,  or  dis- 


ORIGINAL  PREFACE.  1?3 

guised  by  foreign  idiom.  In  attempting  to  make  the  clearness  of 
his  style  in  a  degree  the  mirror  of  his  mind,  he  was  solicitous  to 
shun  turgid  diction,  brilliant  antithesis,  unnatural  conceits,  af 
fected  figures,  forced  epithets,  and,  in  general,  all  factitious  or 
nament.  Nor  was  he  less  anxious  to  avoid  mistaking  and  admit 
ting  vulgarity  for  simplicity.  He  wished  not  to  degrade  the  won 
derful  and  glorious,  though  ordinary  and  regular  displays  of  Crea 
tion  and  Providence,  in  the  natural  and  moral  world,  by  handling 
the  subjects  with  too  much  familiarity.  He  believed  that  the  use 
of  the  most  proper  words,  in  their  proper  places,  without  the 
intervention  of  the  undefinable  mens  divinior,  could  not  constitute 
the  higher  species  of  poesy.  Pleased  with  the  charms  of  novelty, 
and  delighted  with  whatever  is  elevated,  beautiful,  elegant,  lovely, 
and  excellent  in  the  works  of  the  ancients  and  moderns,  he  should 
be  happy  to  be  found,  in  his  own,  to  have  aimed  at  originality 
without  rashness,  and  imitation  without  servility. 

The  same  diffidence  of  the  writer  in  hazarding  an  opinion  on 
his  own  productions,  and  confidence  in  the  candour  of  his  rea 
ders,  which  induce  him  to  offer  his  hitherto  unpublished  poems 
"with  these  remarks  and  explanations,  preclude  him  from  presum 
ing  to  anticipate  their  judgment.  An  avowal  of  his  objects  and 
motives,  as  developed  in  the  history  of  his  compositions,  will, 
perhaps,  serve  to  diminish  the  rigour  and  annihilate  the  aspeT 
rity  of  criticism. 

D.  HUMPHREYS, 

City  of  Washington,  in  the  Territory  of  Columbia, 
January  4th,  1803» 


ADVERTISEMENT 

TO   THE 

PEOPLE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA. 


_L  O  make  use  of  poetry  for  strengthening  patriotism,  promot 
ing  virtue,  and  extending  happiness,  is  to  bring  it  back  to  its 
primitive  exalted  employments.  The  author  of  the  poem  on  the 
Love  of  Country  will  not  suppress  his  predilection  for  consecrat 
ing  to  such  pursuits  whatever  poetical  talents  he  may  possess. 
With  this  view,  he  imagines  he  cannot  select  a  more  pertinent 
occasion,  or  a  more  suitable  subject,  than  to  celebrate  the  anniver. 
sary  of  the  independence  of  his  country,  by  inculcating  senti 
ments  of  patriotism  not  inconsistent  with  our  obligations  of  bene 
volence  to  the  rest  of  mankind.  He  considers  it  of  much  import 
ance  to  the  promotion  of  human  felicity,  that  the  line  which  se 
parates  true  from  false  patriotism  should  be  accurately  marked. 

In  almost  every  nation  and  age,  savage  or  civilized,  remark 
able  military  exploits,  and  signal  national  deliverances,  have  been 
celebrated  with  songs  of  exultation  and  gratitude.  The  sublime 
and  pathetic  effusions  of  Moses,  Deborah,  and  David,  as  well  as 
the  patriotic  and  heroic  poems  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  writers; 
the  monotonous  notes  or  wild  warblings  of  the  bards  in  several 
countries  where  civilization  had  made  but  little  progress;  and  the 
rude  war  songs,  or  mournful  elegies  of  the  aborigines  of  America, 
are  proofs  of  this  assertion. 

What  festival,  ancient  or  modern,  has  been  observed  more  ge 
nerally  or  more  cordially,  than  that  of  the  birth  of  our  nation, 
on  the  fourth  day  of  July  ?  This  unanimity  was  produced,  not  by  the 
peremptory  commands  or  fulsome  recommendations  of  a  direc 
torial  government,  but  by  the  concurrent  feelings  of  a  free  people. 
What  event  ought  to  be  more  deeply  impressed  on  the  public  me 
mory  ?  What  day  can  give  a  more  instructive  lesson  ?  Or  what 
occasion  can  be  better  calculated  than  this  spontaneous  solemnity, 
to  inspire  Americans  with  that  love  of  country  and  force  of  union, 
by  which  alone  the  liberty  and  independence  of  the  nation  can 
be  long  maintained? 


ADVERTISEMENT.  125 

It  is  pleasant  to  reflect,  that  on  the  same  day,  in  all  parts  of 
the  world  where  a  few  An  :r:cans  are  assembled,  they  are  in  the 
habit  of  rejoicing  together  w.,  .h  decent  hilarity,  and  of  cherishing 
those  social  sentiments  which  were  so  feelingly  participated  in 
their  common  toils,  sufferings  and  dangers.  At  home  or  abroad, 
what  breast  is  not  then  as  it  were  electrified  by  sympathetic  re 
collections  ?  Where  is  the  cold-blooded  wretch  to  be  found,  who 
disgraces  the  American  name  (if  he  be  a  native  of  that  conti 
nent),  by  not  feeling  the  sacred  flame  of  patriotism  kindling  with 
redoubled  ardour,  from  the  mingled  remembrance  and  emotion 
which  this  festival  forces  on  his  mind? 

The  author,  in  thus  paying  his  tribute  to  the  day,  flatters  him 
self  he  shall  not  be  reproached  for  having  sacrificed  any  interest, 
neglected  any  duty,  or  betrayed  any  trust.  For  he  takes  a  be 
coming  pride  in  asserting,  that,  in  indulging  his  taste  for  poetry, 
he  has  never  suspended  his  attention  to  the  public  service;  and 
that  no  letter  or  application  on  business  which  ever  came  to  him 
from  any  of  his  countrymen,  in  any  quarter  of  the  globe  (and 
they  have  been  extremely  numerous),  has  ever  been  neglected  at 
the  moment,  or  remained  unanswered  longer  than  was  inevitably 
necessary.  In  whatever  point  of  light  his  poetical  dispositions  or 
literary  acquirements  may  be  considered,  he  is  not  a  little  desirous 
of  preserving  the  reputation  of  an  honest  man,  who  has  never 
ceased  to  act  in  every  office  he  has  filled,  with  diligence,  zeal, 
and  fidelity.  He  has  ever  taught  by  precept,  and  he  hopes  he 
has  not  counteracted  the  doctrine  by  example,  that  there  can  be 
no  happiness  without  virtue,  no  liberty  without  morality,  and  no 
good  public  character  without  being  at  the  same  time  a  good  pri 
vate  character.  With  the  profession  of  such  principles,  accom- 
panied  by  the  most  earnest  wishes  for  their  political  and  indivi 
dual  prosperity,  he  commits  this  work  to  the  indulgence  of  his 
countrymen. 

D.  HUMPHREYS. 

Madrid-,  July  4tA,  1799. 


ARGUMENT. 

JLovc  of  country,  the  subject  proposed— prevalence  of  it,  even 
in  (he  most  unfavourable  climates  and  dangerous  circum 
stances — reasons  tvhy  the  citizens  of  the  United  States  ought, 
to  be  particularly  influenced  by  it — patriotism  not  incompatible 
•with  philanthropy — address  to  the  Deity  to  be  enabled  to  cele 
brate  worthily  that  love  by  which  the  world  was  made  for  man — , 
creation — man- — his  dignity  inferred  from  his  strange  and  com 
plicated,  but  elevated  nature — immortality  of  the  soul — sympa 
thy — affected  sensibility — 'false  philosophy — existence  of  a  Su 
preme  Being  demonstrable  from  his  works — superiority  of 
nature  to  art,  and  of  man  to  all  the  other  mundane  works  of 
God — -from  the  nobleness  of  his  qualities  and  conceptions,  man 
ought  to  despise  pseudo-patriotism — conquerors — good  sove 
reigns — every  species  of  tyrannical  government  to  be  avoided — 
union  recommended  as  necessary  to  preserve  our  liberty — our 
peculiar  advantages  for  maintaining  our  independence — exe 
cration  of  discord  and  ambition— firmness  of  our  government— • 
determination  of  citizens  of  all  ages  and  descriptions  to  repel 
invasion,  or  perish  in  the  attempt — motives  to  animate  the  rising 
generation  deduced  from  our  struggle  for  independence — a 
review  of  its  origin — the  patriotic  manner  in  which  the  •Ameri 
can  people  were  affected  at  the  commencement  of  our  revolu 
tion — arrival  of  the  British  and  foreign  troops — their  chiefs — 
preparations  to  resist  the  foe — eulogium  of  the  principal  offi 
cers  of  the  American  army — happy  termination  of  the  war—; 
the  revision  of  these  interesting  scenes  excites  an  ardent  de 
sire  in  the  author  to  revisit  his  native  country — indescribqblc 
sensations  produced  by  love  of  country — concluding  wish. 


A  POEM 


LOVE  OF  COUNTRY, 


JL  O  INDEPENDENCE  consecrate,  this  day 
Demands  the  tribute  of  my  annual  lay ; 
Protector  of  that  gift  of  God  Supreme, 
Thou,  Love  of  Country,'  be  this  day  my  theme. 

Hail  sacred  Love  of  Country  !  mystic  tie !  3 

That  binds  us  to  our  native  soil  and  sky ! 
Indissolubly  binds  through  each  extreme 
Of  noxious  climes.     The  native  braves  the  beam 
Where  darts  the  crimson  sun,  with  downward  ray, 
O'er  tropic  isles,  insufferable  day.  10 

Beneath  cold  Zembla's  clouds,  the  last  of  men 
Pent  with  his  wife  and  children  in  his  den, 
Six  wintry  months,  while  hail  and  thunder  pour 
O'er  rocks  of  ice,  the  elemental  roar, 

While  sweeping  tempests  ride  night's  raven  wings,  15 

Still  to  his  frozen  cave  more  closely  clings. 
Nor  where  dire  earthquakes  sleep  by  Lisbon's  rock, 
Thy  sons,  oh  Tagus !  who  once  felt  the  shock, 
Fly  ere  again  the  sleeping  vengeance  wake, 
And  low  in  dust  the  rebuilt*  city  shake.  2§ 

Nor  yet  Vesuvio's  brow,  with  cinders  bright, 
Pouring  red  lavas  through  the  noon  of  night, 
Can  make  the  peasant  from  his  home  retire, 
And  shun  betimes  the  falling  flood  of  fire. 


*  Although  the  author  had  his  residence  for  several  years  in  Lisbon,  it  was  on  that  higk 
part  of  the  city  called  Buenos  Ayres,  where  no  damage  has  ever  been  done  by  earthquakes. 
Near  the  river  Tagus,  the  buildings  which  have  more  than  once  been  destroyed,  may  pro- 
babiy  hereafter  experience  a  similar  fate. 


128  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY. 

Will  ye  in  love  of  country  be  surpast?  25 

For  you  the  lot  in  pleasant  places  cast, 
No  common  share  of  happiness  affords — 
Your  rights  asserted  by  your  conqu'ring  swords, 
A  government  of  your  own  choice  possest, 
With  morals  (surest  pledge  of  freedom)  blest ;  30 

Columbians !  show  ye  love  your  favour'd  lot, 
By  strong  attachment  to  your  natal  spot. 

Still  Love  of  Country,  on  no  narrow  plan, 
Exists  consistent  with  the  love  of  man. 

In  little  circles  love  begins,  not  ends,  35 

With  parents,  brothers,  kindred,  neighbours,  friends: 
As  wave  on  wave,  on  circles  circle0  press, 
Our  nation  next  we  love,  nor  nature  less : 
Though  still  Columbia — best  of  parent  names  !— 
The  dearest  proofs  of  filial  fondness  claims ;  40 

Man's  general  good  this  pref 'rence  not  impedes, 
Nor  checks  the  soul  from  philanthropic  deeds. 

Illume  my  subject !  tune  my  voice  to  sing  1 
Oh,  thou  who  rid'st  upon  the  whirlwind's  wing, 
(Majestic  darkness!)  or,  in  glory's  beam,  4o 

Dwell'st  inapproachable  with  light  supreme ! 
If  sweet  philanthropy  employs  my  care, 
Hear,  thou  I  on  high  th'  undissipated  pray'r ! 
Inspire  my  tongue  to  sing  the  wond'rous  plan, 
A  world  created  for  thy  image,  man.  50 

Through  realms  of  darkness,  dreary,  unenjoy'd, 
Where  anarchy  and  uproar  rul'd  the  void, 
Forth  went  th'  eternal  word,  and  far  was  driv'n 
Primeval  night  before  the  pow'r  of  heaven — 
What  time  he  bade  th'  abyss  with  light  rejoice,  55 

Confusion  fled  and  chaos  heard  his  voice: 
Th*  Almighty  fiat  mark'd  the  spacious  round, 
Concent'ring  land  and  water  learn 'd  their  bound; 
This  ball  emergent  from  th'  oblivious  flood, 
The  great  Creator  saw  and  call'd  it  good.  60' 

Celestial  beings  view'd  with  vast  delight, 
A  new-born  star  rise  twinkling  on  their  sight, 
And  as  'mid  worlds  of  light  the  wonder  hung. 
Each  sister  orb  with  unknown  music  rung. 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY.  129 

For  whom  was  earth's  stupendous  fabric  made?  65 

For  whom  such  pomp  ineffable  display 'd? 
What  made  the  rolling  spheres  with  music  ring, 
And  sons  of  God  symphonious  concerts  sing? 
'Twas  man's  inexplicable,  doubtful  form, 

Sprung  from  non-entity — a  God — a  worm —  70 

The  high-born  spirit,  native  pure  of  day— 
The  body  gross,  but  animated  clay — 
With  parts  so  pure,  so  gross — enigma  strange ! 
Alive,  though  dead — the  same,  though  seen  to  change — 
'Twas  God's  last  work  that  fir'd  angelic  quires,  75 

Gave  worlds  to  space  and  themes  to  heav'nly  lyres. 

What  though  to  death  a  prey,  this  earthy  crust 
Dissolves  and  moulders  with  its  mother  dust ; 
Th'  inserted  part  a  graff  divine  appears, 

From  heav'n  translated  to  this  vale  of  tears—  80 

Not  long  in  alien  air  to  waste  its  bloom, 
Nor  shall  the  grave  the  falling  shoot  inhume; 
More  beauteous  rising  from  the  deathful  strife, 
Immortal  offspring  of  the  tree  of  life ! 

Thou  child  of  heav'n  and  earth !  a  stream  divine  85. 

From  the  first  fountain  feeds  your  veins  and  mine. 
Oh  man,  my  brother !  how,  by  blood  allied, 
Swells  in  my  breast  the  sympathetic  tide  ? 
Shall  I  not  wish  thee  well,  not  work  thy  good, 
Deaf  to  th'  endearing  cries  of  kindred  blood?  90 

What!  shall  my  soul,  involv'd  in  matter  dense, 
(Obdur'd  this  bosom  and  benum'd  each  sense), 
Lose,  grateful  sympathy  \  thy  genial  ray, 
Quench'd  in  the  dampness  of  this  crust  of  clay? 
No,  give  me,  heav'n !  affections  quick,  refin'd,  95 

The  keen  emotions  that  entrance  the  mind — 
What  youthful  bards,  what  ardent  heroes  feel, 
The  lover's  rapture  and  the  patriot's  zeal ; 
The  zeal  that  aims  humanity  to  bless, 
Oh,  let  me  feel,  and,  what  I  feel,  express  I  100 

With  feelings  not  less  strong  than  others  born, 
Affected  sensibility  I  scorn. 
Nor  finds  my  breast  benevolence  or  joy, 
By  generalising  feeling,  to  destroy. 

S 


130  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY. 

I  hate  that  new  philosophy's  strange  plan,  105 

That  teaches  love  for  all  things  more  than  man; 

To  love  all  mortals  save  our  friends  alone, 

To  hold  all  countries  dearer  than  our  own ; 

To  take  no  int'rest  in  the  present  age, 

Rapt  to  th'  unborn  with  philanthropic  rage;  110 

To  make  the  tutor'd  eyes  with  tears  o'ei-flow, 

More  for  fictitious  than  for  real  woe  C 

•    Then  let  my  breast  more  pure  sensations  prove, 

And  on  just  objects  fix  appropriate  love : 

First  on  that  God  whose  wond'rous  works  I  scan,  115 

Next  on  the  noblest  of  his  creatures,  man. 

A  God,  the  soul  of  Being,  still  the  same, 

Through  everlasting  days,  his  deeds  proclaim : 

Whose  arm  created  where  no  eye  can  pierce, 

Systems  on  systems  through  the  universe  ?  120 

And  who  propell'd  their  orbs?  in  motion  keeps? 

Say,  Atheist!  say — whose  eye-lid  never  sleeps? 

Whose  breath's  existence  ?    Omnipresence,  space  ? 

And  who  sustains  thy  life,  blasphemer  of  his  grace? 

Say,  live  there  mortals  form'd  with  organs  such,  125 

They  nature  prize  too  little,  art  too  much? 
I  love  th'  immortal  marble's  breathing  form, 
With  life  instinct,  with  animation  warm ; 
Where  pictur'd  canvass  glows  with  living  dyes, 
Charm 'd,  I  behold  a  new  creation  rise:  130 

Nor  less  I  love  of  human  skill  the  pride, 
The  tall  bark  bounding  on  the  billowy  tide: 
Or  art's  consummate  task,  the  city  grac'd 
With  Grecian  columns  or  with  Tuscan  taste. 
If  such  delight  art's  curious  works  afford,  135 

Shall  I  not  rather  love  creation's  Lord? 
To  me,  oh  nature !  all  thy  music  bring, 
O'er  all  heav'n's  other  works  of  man  to  sing. 

Thy  varied  voice  in  every  breeze  I  hear, 

Delightful  nature  I  mingling  in  my  ear.  140 

Though  sweet  the  sound  of  zephyr's  whispering  breath, 
And  leaves  that  rustle  o'er  the  furzy  heath ; 
Though  sweet  the  babbling  brook,  the  patt'ring  show'r, 
And  echo  mocking  from  the  neighb'riag  tow'r; 


Otf  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY.  131 

What  time  the  mimic  prattles  half-form'd  words,  145 

And  sweet  at  morn  or  eve  the  charm  of  birds: 

The  song  of  nature's  bard  more  transport  yields 

Than  all  the  chorus  of  the  warbling  fields  ; 

His  soothing  accent  soft  as  dews  of  heav'n, 

That  slake  the  feverish  flow'ret's  thirst  at  ev'n.  150 

Inspir'd,  in  meditation's  sober  hour, 
I  trace  through  all  his  works  th'  Almighty  pow'r, 
Whose  ceaseless  bounties  round  the  seasons  roll, 
Till  gratitude  and  gladness  fill  my  soul. 

While  nature  charms  with  annual  changes  bland,  155 

I  love  the  novel,  beautiful  and  grand. 
I  love  the  children  of  parturient  spring, 
The  plants  that  blossom,  and  the  birds  that  sing; 
When  near  my  noon-tide  bow'r,  the  genial  gale 
With  life  and  love  re-animates  each  vale.  160 

I  love  the  landscape  fair  with  cultur'd  farms, 
When  ruddy  summer  spreads  his  roseate  charms ; 
When  day's  last  glimm'rings  fade  along  the  skies, 
Pleas'd  I  observe  the  paly  crescent  rise, 

What  time  eve's  gauzy  veil  the  day-glare  dims,  165 

And  vap'ry  twilight  o'er  th'  horizon  swims. 
With  joy  I  view  the  morning  mists  appear, 
When  autumn's  sceptre  rules  the  ripen 'd  year; 
Lo,  where  the  reaper  gathers  Ceres'  gifts, 
And  from  the  fields  their  yellow  burden  lifts !  170 

Around,  what  prospects  cheer  the  ravish 'd  eye? 
Above,  what  glowing  colours  gild  the  sky? 
Then  oft  the  clouds  from  heav'n 's  bright  loom  unroll'd, 
Display  their  silvery  tissue  wrought  with  gold, 
Whose  skirts  transparent  arrowy  lustres  tinge,  175 

And  lavish  rainbows  round  th'  ethereal  fringe. 
My  soul  exults  to  soar  from  earth  at  night, 
When  wintry  skies  ai-e  wrapp'd  in  boreal  light; 
When  sanguine  meteors  streak  with  dismal  stains 
The  lurid  air,  and  shoot  athwart  the  plains ;  180 

Or  when  each  star  is  muffled,  and  a  robe, 
Dark  as  the  pall  of  death,  invests  the  globe ; 
While  loud  the  whirlwind  round  the  forest  raves, 
And  rocks  reverberate  the  1'oar  of  waves ; 
Or  lessening  surges  leave  the  craggy  shore,  185 

As  the  tir'd  tempest  half  forgets  to  roar. 


133  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY* 

On  dark-red  clouds,  when  storms  electric  ride, 

And  fire  with  frequent  flash  the  mountain's  side ; 

I  love  to  hear  the  distant  thunders  roll, 

That  swell  to  dread  sublimity  the  soul.  190 

Though  nature  charm  through  all  her  varying  formSj 

And  God  be  seen  in  sunshine  as  in  storms ; 

Yet  man  a  more  congenial  love  inspires, 

Wakes  better  transports  and  sublimer  fires ; 

He,  form'd  for  higher  schemes,  conceptions  vast,  195 

Surveys  the  future,  and  reviews  the  past, 

And  sees  o'er  scanty  bounds  of  space  and  time., 

Bosom'd  in  bliss  his  native  home  sublime. 

Shall  we  to  whom  this  loftier  lot  is  giv'n, 

With  elevated  eye  to  look  on  heav'n,  20Q 

Not  look  contemptuous  down  on  meaner  things, 
The  pomp  of  conquest  and  the  pride  of  kings ! 
Nor  stung  by  mad  ambition,  count  the  cost 
Of  solid  good  in  empty  titles  lost ! 

Perish  the  Roman  pride  a  world  that  braves,  205 

To  make  for  one  free  state  all  nations  slaves ; 
Their  boasted  patriotism  at  once  exprest, 
Love  for  themselves  and  hate  for  all  the  rest  1 
Can  love,  whose  liberal  pow'rs  enlarge  the  mind, 
By  local  plans  thus  basely  be  confin'd?  210 

Then  be  such  narrow  policy  accurst, 
Of  insults  keenest  as  of  wrongs  the  worst ! 

Live  there  whose  minds,  perverted,  pleasure  find 
In  forging  fetters  for  subdu'd  mankind ! 

From  conquest  think  to  gain  a  glorious  name,  215 

And  raise  on  human  wretchedness  their  fame! 
'Tis  time  to  call  such  monsters  from  their  crimes, 
Scourges  of  heav'n,  and  tyrants  for  their  times. 
My  soul  abhors  injustice — and  shall  wrong 
Escape  the  sting  of  my  vindictive  song?  220 

Enrag'd,  shall  I  capitulations  make 
With  vaunting  conqu'rors,  for  false  pity's  sake? 
Men  must  I  see,  whom  slaves  as  gods  adore, 
Wreath  their  proud  brows  with  laurels  dipt  in  gore? 
Soon  shall  their  laurels,  pluck'd  by  force  unjust,  225 

Fall  immature  and  wither  in  the  dust. 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY,  133 

Nor  less,  if  justice  rules  this  universe, 
Though  prosp'rous  still,  shall  pangs  the  tyrant  pierce. 
Behold  the  wretch  to  torment  doom'd  ere  dead! 
What  nightly  visions  haunt  his  troubled  bed  ?  230 

Him  pomp  nor  pleasure  lulls,  or  riots  din, 
While  conscience  holds  a  holy  court  within : 
Vain  all  that  charm'd  before,  triumphal  cars, 
The  wrecks  of  nations  and  the  spoils  of  wars. 
Mantled  in  blood,  what  spectres  pale  appear !  235 

What  moans  and  cries  assail  his  startled  ear ! 
Then  at  still  midnight's  hour,  his  murd'rous  mind 
To  reason-racking  agonies  consign'd, 
Shrinks  as  the  shadowy  shapes  terrific  rise- 
Shivers  his  flesh,  his  hair  stands  stiff,  his  eyes  240 
With  frenzy  staring  from  their  sockets  start, 
While  gnaws  th'  undying  worm  his  anguish'd  heart. 

Is  it  for  this,  thy  thirst  for  taxes  drains 
The  sweat  and  tears  that  fertilize  the  plains? 
Is  it  for  this,  vain  pageant  of  an  hour!  245 

Thou  mak'st  the  nations  groan  beneath  thy  pow'r? 
Torn  from  their  friends,  to  war  thy  vassals  fly, 
Live  for  thy  pastime,  at  thy  mandate  die  ? 
But  say,  insensate !  when  thy  wheels  no  more 
Shall  roll  in  carnage  or  be  clogg'd  with  gore,  250 

Say,  what  the  meed,  when  (all  thy  triumphs  past) 
Thou  sink'st  in  black  oblivion's  gulf  at  last? 
So  that  broad  stream  that  sweeps  unbounded  plains, 
Great  Mississippi,  wastes  the  wide  domains, 
When  sudden  swoln  with  congregated  rills,  255 

That  rush  and  thunder  from  a  thousand  hills, 
He  hastes  resistless  to  his  ocean-grave, 
The  sire  of  rivers !  * — -now  a  nameless  wave ! 

Yet  rais'd  to  thrones  by  merit,  chance  or  birth, 
At  times,  have  righteous  monarchs  rul'd  on  earth;  260 

Guides  of  their  age,  and  guardians  of  their  realm, 
Whose  names  oblivion's  wave  shall  ne'er  o'erwhelm.  . 

But  when  fell  ign'rance  wraps  the  world  in  shade, 
Thy  plagues,  oh  Despotism  !  each  land  pervade. 


*  The  Mississippi  a  called  the  father  of  rivrrs  by  the  native*. 


134  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY. 

Or  if  a  transient  gleam  through  some  extends,  265 

How  freedom  trembles  at  pretended  friends ! 

While  demagogues,  to  gain  a  boundless  sway, 

The  people  flatter  first,  and  next  betray ; 

With  false  professions  real  slavery  bring, 

The  guileful  regents  of  the  people-king  I  J70 

Rise  then,  ye  patriots  tried !  who  wear  no  mask, 

Decline  no  danger,  and  refuse  no  task, 

To  save  th'  endanger'd  state — unveil  their  guile ! 

Man's  rights  and  obligations  reconcile  I 

The  demon-fury  of  the  mob  restrain,  375 

And  bind  licentiousness  in  law's  strong  chain ! 

Though  dire  the  desolation  conqu'rors  cause, 
When  death  behind  them  opes  insatiate  jaws; 
Though  great  the  plagues,  though  horrible  the  curse 
Of  despotism !  still  anarchy  is  worse —  280 

Undup'd  by  popular  names,  shall  we  not  shun 
The  tyranny  of  MANY  as  of  ONE? 

Tell,  ye  who  FREEDOM  sought  in  martial  strife, 
What  guards  that  greatest  good  of  social  life? 
What  constitutes  the  best  defence  of  states  ?  285 

Is  it  their  floating  tow'rs?  their  brazen  gates? 
Their  troops  innumerable  ?    'Tis  one  soul 
That  gives,  by  union,  force  beyond  the  whole. 

Columbians !  friends '.  in  fields  of  battle  brave ! 
Defend  those  rights  the  God  of  nature  gave.  290 

Heav'ns!  what  the  price  those  rights,  invaded,  cost! 
What  wealth  expended  and  what  herces  lost ! 
Their  shades  still  cry  from  many  a  battle-plain, 
"  Who  bled  for  FREEDOM  have  not  bled  in  vain." 
I  see  blest  Warren  rise — an  awful  shade —  295 

And  great  Montgomery  wave  the  crimson'd  blade ; 
Mild  Mercer,  dreadful  in  the  fields  of  war  ; 
Athletic  Brown,*  deform 'd  with  many  a  scar ; 
Scammel,t  his  country's  boast,  the  Britons'  shame  j 
De  Hart,  who  fell  when  dawning  into  fame ;  300 


*  Col.  Brown,  educated  with  the  author,  was  slain  and  scalped  by  the  savages. 
•f  This  excellent  officer  was  killed  by  a  dragoon,  after  having  been  taken  prisoner,  at  th* 
»jpge  of  York-Town. 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY.  135 

De  Kalb  (from  Gallic  climes)  the  vet'rans'  pride  ; 

Laurens,  the  last  who  for  his  country  died  I 

These  cry  for  union — with  ten  thousand  more, 

Without  a  shroud  who  fester'd  in  their  gore ; 

Swept  from  the  field  in  undistinguish'd  doom,  305 

And  thrown  promiscuous  in  a  common  tomb — 

Self-offered  victims  for  their  country's  good, 

Who  ratified  our  charter'd  rights  with  blood. 

Oh,  hear  their  cry,  thou  delegated  band 

Of  patriots !  chosen  rulers  of  the  land !  310 

Each  selfish  thought  exchang'd  for  patriot  zeal, 
With  one  accord  promote  the  public  weal: 
Each  party  name,  each  harsh  distinction  drown'd 
In  concord's  soft,  conciliating  sound ! 

Our  land  (for  war  each  heart,  each  hand  prepar'd)  315 

A  living  strength  impregnable  shall  guard. 
Strong  in  our  various  regions'  vast  resource, 
Strong  in  our  own  unconquerable  force, 
Strong  in  our  best  ally,  th'  Atlantic  waves, 
Who  dares  attempt  to  make  Columbians  slaves,  320 

Sees  on  his  head  th'  intended  mischief  driv'n, 
For  earth  a  monument  of  wrath  from  heav'n! 
Still  will  our  warlike  sires  their  aid  afford, 
To  guard  that  independence  which  their  sword 
Achiev'd — and  still  their  sons,  like  Sparta's  band,  325 

The  rushing  millions  in  the  strait  withstand — 
The  nation  calmly  rise  at  freedom's  call, 
United  flourish  or  united  fall. 

Hence  far,  oh  Discord !  be  thy  horrid  crimes, 
And  hateful  influence  from  our  happy  climes !  330 

Thou,  lust  of  domination !  who  has  hurl'd 
Plagues  on  all  regions,  spare  the  western  world ! 
May  curses  dire  from  ages  long  to  come, 
Pursue  the  miscreant  ev'n  beyond  the  tomb, 
Who,  rul'd  by  mad  ambition's  murd'rous  star,  335 

In  Avantonness  illumes  the  torch  of  v/ar. 
May  the  rais'd  hand  that  wills  for  blood  to  vote 
Without  a  cause,  by  God's  red  arm  be  smote ! 
Dumb  struck  the  tongue  that  strives  to  call  to  arms, 
Or  lure  to  war  with  conquest's  dazzling  charms.  340 


136  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY. 

Nor  shall  the  nations  join'd  in  fierce  affray, 
With  bribes  or  threats  our  stedfast  councils  sway ; 
In  vain  they  soothe,  in  vain  their  menace  roars, 
Like  the  dash'd  billow  on  our  rocky  shores. 

The  spark  of  patriot  fire,  with  earliest  breath  345 

Enkindled,  fears  no  quenching  damps  of  death. 
Me  love  of  country  fir'd  in  early  life, 
To  rush  amidst  the  military  strife : 
Touch 'd  by  that  heat,  no  dangers  daunt  the  brave, 
Though  foes  unnumber'd  hide  the  strand  or  wave.  350 

Should  ruffian  war  again  insult  our  land, 
Should  civil  discord  shake  her  blazing  brand ; 
Soon  would  my  song,  like  songs  of  Tyrteus  old, 
Fire  with  new  rage  the  bosoms  of  the  bold ; 
Soon  would  our  patriots  march  at  music's  sound,  355 

And  not  a  coward  in  the  ranks  be  found ! 
The  chill,  slow  blood  of  vet'rans  soon  would  start, 
And  boil  and  eddy  round  the  heated  heart. 

Though  thou,  old  age !  unlovely,  dark,  and  cold, 
Art  prone  to  quell  the  spirits  of  the  bold;  360 

To  freeze  the  veins,  with  palsy  smite  each  limb, 
And  make  the  late  keen-sighted  eye-balls  dim ; 
Though  for  my  peers  thy  frosty  fingers  strow 
The  cheeks  with  paleness  and  the  locks  with  snow ; 
Yet  will  those  heroes  venerable  rise,  365 

A  spark  unquench'd  still  flashing  from  their  eyes, 
In  freedom's  cause  their  bosoms  beating  high, 
Prepar'd  to  conquer,  or  resolv'd  to  die ; 
Around  their  country's  standard  rallying  soon, 
In  all  the  promptness  of  life's  genial  noon,  370 

Form  walls  of  aged  breasts,  to  ward  the  ball 
From  younger,  and  avert  their  country's  fall: 
Or  if  it  falls — none  living  leave  to  weep- 
But  rest  all  buried  in  the  ruins  deep. 

From  sires  so  brave  descends  one  dastard  son,  375 

Would  basely  yield  the  prize  his  father  won  ? 
Their  fathers'  fame  repels  that  foul  disgrace, 
And  spurs  to  splendid  deeds  the  rising  race. 

Now  should  our  youths,  the  renovating  age, 
Hear  from  their  fathers,  ere  we  quit  this  stage,  380 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY.  137 

Our  feats  in  war — what  chiefs,  as  pillars,  stood 
For  freedom  firm,  and  built  their  fame  in  blood!— 
Then  learn,  blest  youths ! — to  independence  born  I— 
What  gloomy  prospects  usher'd  in  our  morn! 
To  Britain  long  attach'd,  from  whence  we  sprung,  385 

Whose  praises  dwelt  on  every  infant  tongue — 
Sons  of  her  sons,  and  sharers  in  their  fame — 
Our  laws,  religion,  language,  rights  the  same ! 
At  last  a  right  she  claim'd,  new,  unconfin'd, 
"  In  every  case  the  colonists  to  bind."  390 

Thence  rose  resistance.     Rebels  then  proclaim'd — 
For  weakness,  discord,  cowardice,  defam'd — 
Of  preparation  void — mid  first  alarms, 
No  ships,  tow'rs,  treasures,  arsenals  or  arms, 
To  us  belong'd.     No  league,  nor  army  ours,  395 

Till  common  danger  call'd  forth  common  pow'rs. 
In  vain  the  foe  from  states  so  feebly  join'd, 
WTith  hopes  of  mean  submission  sooth'd  his  mind; 
Proud  stood  the  states  by  threat'nings  undismay'd, 
And  with  retorted  scorn  his  threats  repaid.  400 

And  didst  thou  hope,  beyond  th'  Atlantic  waves, 
To  bend  unyielding  freemen  into  slaves? 
To  make  a  continent  that  knows  no  end, 
Forever  on  thy  little  isle  depend? 

Didst  thou,  presumptuous !  dream  the  conquest  won  ?  405 

Did  we,  though  weak,  th'  unequal  combat  shun  ? 
And  ye  who  witness'd  sad,  when,  round  our  shore, 
We  heard  from  sea  th'  approaching  cannon  roar, 
Skirting  th'  horizon  saw  (without  one  friend) 
From  dim-roll'd  decks  a  redd'ning  host  impend,  410 

A  magazine  of  war  each  pregnant  sail, 
Say,  what  knee  trembled  or  what  face  turn'd  pale  ? 
Nor  sooner  we  beheld,  in  vengeance  dire, 
The  shells  high  bursting  cleave  the  clouds  with  fire, 
Than  union  grew  as  danger  came  more  near —  415 

To  daring  deeds  we  rose ! — while  all  that's  dear, 
While  all  that  makes  ev'n  frozen  bosoms  melt, 
Infus'd  the  feelings  cowards  never  felt. 
Haste  forg'd  us  arms — th'  ignoble  rustic  steel 
A  glorious  weapon  gleam 'd — while  our  appeal  42d 

To  heav'n's  high  throne  we  made,  what  crowds  repair 
To  temples  of  the  Lord  in  fervent  pray'r? 
Their  fathers'  God  Omnipotent  they  nam'd, 
While  the  great  Congress  solemn  fasts  proclaim'd. 

T 


138  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY. 

No  tongue  with  lies,  no  face  in  falsehood  drest,  425 

Mock'd  the  heart-searcher  in  his  holy  rest: 

But  strong  devotions,  undispers'd  in  air, 

Rose  prevalent  in  agony  of  pray'r. 

**  From  Britain's  vet'ran  bands,  from  hireling*  hosts, 

From  thund'ring  ships  that  darken  all  our  coasts,  430 

From  fire  and  sword  save  us,  oh  Lordt"  they  cried — 

"  Save  us,  oh  Lord!"  th'  echoing  aisles  replied — 

u  Oh,  grant  success  may  crown  a  cause  so  good, 

Or  let  us  seal  our  principles  in  blood : 

Before  our  leader's  breast  thy  buckler  spread,  435 

In  days  of  battle  cover  thou  his  head: 

To  conquest  guide  him,  and,  when  war  shall  cease, 

Make  him  thy  delegate  of  good  in  peace-" 

Then  as  a  comet  through  the  hazy  air, 

O'er  earth,  portentous,  waves  his  fiery  hair ;  440 

The  blazing  beacons  seen  from  mountains  far, 
Portended  the  dire  plagues  of  rushing  war. 
Then  but  one  passion  fill'd  each  throbbing  breast, 
Combin'd,  attracted,  or  absorb'd  the  rest- 
Collected  in  ourselves  we  stood,  nor  thought  445 
That  LIBERTY  too  dearly  could  be  bought. 
Inestimable  prize !  for  that  alcne 
Life  was  not  counted  dear,  or  ev'n  our  own. 

How  oft  love's  fires  in  female  breasts  that  burn'd, 
A  kindling  kiss  to  flames  heroic  turn'd !  450 

Then  tim'rous  virgins  show'd  no  shameful  fears, 
Their  lovers'  hearts  they  harden'd  ev'n  by  tears — 
By  patriot  .tears  to  glory  lur'd,  the  swains 
Now  flam'd  bold  soldiers  on  th'  embattled  plains: 
So  glowing  iron  bath'd  in  limpid  streams,  455 

Its  temper  chang'd — the  steel  of  battle  beams. 

How  oft  we  saw  beneath  the  cottage-roof, 
Of  purest  patriotism  no  vulgar  proof  I 
From  martial  exercise  with  village  bands, 
In  arms  a  youth  before  a  matron  stands,  460 


*  German  auxiliaries,  hired  by  the  Britiih  government  to  serve  in  the  war  against  the 
American  colonies:  it  having  been  stipulated  that  a  certain  price  should  be  piid  for  euclt 
nan  who  shgwlJ  not  return. 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY.  13^ 

Grac'd  with  ingenuous  blush — that  blush  confest 

The  double  duty  that  disturb 'd  his  breast: 

The  matron-mother  ey'd  with  eager  joy, 

Clasp'd  in  embrace,  and  thus  bespoke  the  boy : 

•"  Thy  comrades  rush  to  glory's  fields  afar,  465 

Lag  not  behind,  but  haste  to  join  the  war. 

There  reigns  above,  whose  care  delights  to  bless, 

To  feed  the  widow  and  the  fatherless ; 

May  he" — Th'  unfinish'd  accents  fail'd  her  tongue, 

Approv'd,  not  long  in  idle  gaze  he  clung —  470 

Strait  beat  the  drum — the  filial  tear  that  fell, 

A  tear  maternal  met,  in  mute  farewell. 

By  freedom  rous'd,  from  populous  cities  swarms 
Forsook  their  trades  or  arts  and  flew  to  arms. 
"  Fly,  fly  !"  exclaim'd  the  recent  married  fair,  4F5 

"  To  war  my  love !  my  heart  attends  thee  there : 
Though  born  a  woman,  not  for  slavery  born, 
I  hate  a  tyrant  and  a  coward  scorn : 
Fear  not  for  all  that's  dear  to  change,  in  war, 
Thy  bloom  for  wounds  and  beauty  for  a  scar —  480 

Then  brown  with  dust  and  blood  from  battles  won, 
Swift  to  my  arms,  my  loveliest  hero!  run — 
All  ills  forgotten — caught  from  breast  to  breast 
The  rapt'rous  glow — caressing  and  carest — 
Then  shall  we  prove  the  joys  of  heav'n  in  store,  485 

To  meet  in  freedom  and  to  part  no  more." 

Awful  in  age,  with  dignified  applause, 
Our  sires  imprest  a  reverence  on  cur  cause. 
And  shall  I  not  remember  words  that  fell, 

As  thus  my  father  bade  three  sons  farewell?  490 

"  In  peace  I  liv'd  (though  stricken  well  with  years). 
To  see  your  manhood — now  a  war  appears — 
Had  not  the  chills  of  age  these  nerves  unstrung, 
Myself  would  go — but  ye  are  strong  and  young — 
Your  country  calls — my  sons  1  to  battle  bear  •  495 

An  old  man's  blessing  and  a  father's  pray'r — 
Our  cause  is  just — to  guard  each  sacred  right, 
Go,  in  heav'n's  name,  and  dare  the  dreadful  fight— 
Go,  act  the  man — from  you  I  hope  no  less — 
And  may  the  Lord  of  Hosts  protect  and  bless}"  a 09 


140 


From  utmost  isles  o'er  foaming  billows  tost, 
The  sight  of  land  for  many  a  dark  day  lost; 
Borne  on  a  thousand  ships  with  fifes  and  drums, 
And  blood-red  streamers,  lo !  where  Britain  comes. 
Lo !  where  the  ship-borne  host  from  ocean  speeds !  505 

Hark,  mingling  sounds  of  men  and  neighing  steeds, 
The  rattling  cannon,  ammunition  car, 
With  arms  of  fire  and  magazines  of  war ! 
The  steeds  rejoice  to  snuff  the  land  once  more, 
Leap  in  the  wallowing  wave,  and  swim  to  shore;  510 

Amaz'd,  a  moment,  shivering,  shake  away 
The  briny  drops.     Then  form'd  in  war's  array, 
At  first  they  reeling  walk — but  ere  long  bound, 
And  prance  impatient  at  the  trumpet's  sound. 
Nor  yet  the  joints  their  supplest  movement  find,  515 

Nor  yet  their  wet  manes  wanton  in  the  wind. 
As  squadrons  wheel  to  take,  for  march,  their  place, 
Some  curvet  in  a  long,  some  shorter  pace ; 
Champing  their  curbs,  the  churned  froth  they  shed, 
And  thick  resounds  of  clattering  hoofs  the  tread.  520 

By  fits  the  bright  steel  sparkling  strikes  the  sight, 
A  misty  ridge  of  mountain  fire  at  night. 
Emerg'd  from  fogs  the  infantiy  appears — 
The  gay  light  troops — the  gloomy  grenadiers — t 
The  royal  guards  in  glittering  laces  drest,  5.25 

The  white  plume  nodding  o'er  the  frowning  crest, 
Move  in  the  van.     Ensigns  and  flags  unfurPd, 
They  seek  new  conquests  in  a  new  found  world. 
For  these  through  distant  climes  in  fields  of  fame, 
Full  oft  had  toil'd  with  chiefs  of  glorious  name;  530, 

Chiefs  old  in  war,  who,  in  some  better  cause, 
Had  still  acquir'd  new  claims  to  high  applause. 

Rob'd  in  vermilion  dye,  the  files  of  war, 
Unfolding,  stretch'd  their  banner'd  wings  afar. 
Tall  in  the  flaming  front,  with  martial  rage,  535 

Tow'r'd  the  bold  chieftains,  Clinton,  Howe,  and  Gage. 
With  noble  badges  deck'd,  in  lordly  guise, 
Percy,  Cornwallis,  Moira,  caught  our  eyes, 
For  dignity  remark'd.     There  Burgoyne  mov'd, 
A  book-learn 'd  Captain,  by  the  muse  belov'd:  540 

And  Carleton  sage,  whom  regal  favours  grace, 
Conferring  peerage  on  th'  ennobled  race : 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY.  141 

Lincoln  and  Cathcart  beam'd,  while  knights  star-drest 
Display'd  "  their  blushing  honours"*  on  their  breast. 
Near  canvass  walls,  Vaughan,  Leslie,  Mathews,  rang'd,     545 
And  Prescot  captur'd  twice,  and  twice  exchang'd. 
There  march'd,  on  manag'd  steeds,  with  harness  gay, 
O'Hara,  Philips,  Pigot,  Garth  and  Grey. 
There  Lairds,  whose  car-borne  sires  to  battle  rode, 
The  Stuarts,  Fraziers,  Campbells,  Erskines,  strode:  550 

M'Leods,  M'Donalds,  Gordons,  Douglas,  strove, 
In  southern  sands,  and  many  a  northern  grove. 
There  hoary  Haldimand,  long  since  who  came 
From  poor  Helvetia,  rich  in  warlike  fame, 
Stood  stately.     Next,  whom  German  climes  afar,  555 

Had  nurs'd  for  blood  fields  in  a  former  war, 
De  Heister,  Knyphausen,  Redheisel,  brave, 
And  Donop  destin'd  to  a  foreign  grave, 
Stalk'd  proudly  on — and  led  the  venal  band — 
Promis'd  (miscall'd  rebellion  crush 'd)  the  land  560 

Should  be  their  own.     These  men  their  princes  sold, 
And  barter'd  precious  lives  for  paltry  gold. 
Yet  haply  some,  when  conquer'd,  shall  enjoy- 
That  liberty  they  labour 'd  to  destroy! 

For  he  to  whom  war's  destinies  belong,  565 

Decreed  the  weak  should  triumph  o'er  the  strong: 
What  wonder,  though  the  might  of  Britain  fought, 
And  fam'd  confederates  works  of  valour  wrought; 
An  infant  nation,  warm'd  by  freedom's  flame, 
Should  win  the  prize,  and  gain  immortal  fame?  57Q 

To  meet  th'  incursion  of  that  mighty  host, 
lerne's  pride,  and  Britain's  proudest  boast ; 
The  Brunswick  marksmen  shooting  deaths  from  far, 
The  Hessian  yagers  train'd  to  hunt  in  war; 
Grim  Anspachf  giants,  grisly  Hanau  elves,  575 

The  people:}:  cffer'd  willingly  themselves. 
As  rise  in  clouds  the  progeny  of  spring, 
The  nations  wafted  on  aurelean  wing, 
Age,  manhood,  youth,  with  chosen  leaders  came, 
Lur'd  by  the  love  of  liberty  and  fame:  580 

*  Many  Knights  of  the  Bath,  designated  with  emblems  of  red  ribbons,  served  in  America. 

t  The  two  battalions  of  Anspachers,  taken  with  Lord  Cornwallis  at  York-Town,  were 
tome  of  the  tallest  men  I  have  ever  seen  in  any  military  service. 

t  My  heart  is  toward  the  governors  of  Israel,  that  offered  themselves  willingly  among 
^lie  people.  Judges  v.  9. 


142  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY. 

For  them  the  glorious  toil  of  battle  yields, 
The  laurel  harvest  reap'd  in  iron  fields. 

Daughters  of  mem'ry!  maids!  whose  vigils  keep 
The  lamps  unquench'd  in  vaults  where  heroes  sleep ; 
As  round  the  quivering  flame  ye  tuneful  watch,  585 

Their  names  from  death  and  dumb  oblivion  snatch : 
Then  Time,  who  meets  Eternity,  shall  find 
What  patriot-chiefs — examples  for  mankind — 
Stood  boldly  foremost — Bards  1  the  high  song  raise, 
And  with  their  names  immortalize  your  lays  1  590 

There,  Washington !  thy  form  unrivall'd  rose, 
Thy  country's  bulwark!  terror  of  the  foes! 
Supreme  o'er  all  in  stature,  talents,  grace, 
The  first  in  merit  as  the  first  in  place. 

There  stood,  in  tactics  skill  'd,  the  vet'ran  Gates,  595 

A  strenuous  victor  for  the  northern  states : 
He,  too,  at  Braddock's  field,  in  early  life, 
Had  shar'd  with  Washington  that  dreadful  strife. 
Next  Greene  appear'd,  with  self-earn'd  knowledge  fraught, 
The  strongest  judgment  and  intensest  thought —  600 

Experience  small  by  genius  great  supplied, 
His  firmness  growing  as  new  perils  tried — 
Fertile  in  each  resource — his  piercing  view 
Intuitively  look'd  creation  through — 

Clear  in  his  breast  the  whole  campaign  was  plann'd,  605 

Foredoom'd  by  heav'n  to  save  our  southern  land. 
His  body  rough  with  scars,  near  Gates  and  Greene, 
Unletter'd  Putnam's  louring  brow  was  seen ; 
Stern  as  he  stood,  none  more  for  woe  could  feel, 
His  heart  all  softness,  but  his  nerves  all  steel;  610 

In  peace  a  lamb,  in  fight  a  lion  fierce, 
And  not  a  name  more  honour'd  decks  my  verse. 
In  life's  bleak  winter  Spencer  ardent  rose, 
But  faint  the  flesh,  and  soon  to  seek  repose. 
With  siiver'd  locks  the  fiery  Stirling  came,  615 

O'er  old  experience  blaz'd  still  new  a  flame; 
A  furnace  glow'd  his  eye — and  grand  his  port, 
Alike  was  fitted  for  a  camp  or  court. 
Then  Sullivan,  to  rival  pomp  inclin'd, 

Few  equals  knew  for  native  pow'rs  of  mind.  G2Q 

WThere  Ward  commanded  first,  Heath's  second  sway 
Of  Massachusetts  led  the  long  array ; 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY.  143 

Before  whose  thousands  Lincoln  took  his  post, 

Serene,  decisive,  and  himself  a  host: 

From  midland  meads  here  crowds  of  farmers  join,  625 

With  Patterson's  brigade,  that  lengthening  line; 

Two  more  brigades  which  yeomen  stout  compose, 

Nixon  and  Greaton  form  in  face  of  foes ; 

Where  Glover's  call  conducts  his  docile  tars, 

Neptunean  sons  adopted  now  by  Mars !  630 

Like  changing  metals  mingled  bands  convolve, 

One  solid  corps  that  nothing  can  dissolve. 

There  Knox  the  mortars,  fiU'd  with  tempest,  taught 

To  raise  their  roar.     There  Morgan's  woodsmen  fought, 

Whose  rifle-balls  that  urg'd  the  sylvan  war,  635 

In  nobler  chace  now  carry  fate  afar. 

As  from  substantial  night,  magnific  came, 
And  roll'd  in  light  yon  planetary  frame, 
Whose  march,  instinctive,  men  amaz'd  behold: 
So  from  a  mass  confus'd  our  army  roll'd,  '640 

Harmonious  movement !  parts  accordant  link'd, 
Wheel  within  wheel,  with  spirit  all  instinct ! 
With  late  night  watchings  Wan,  by  him  approv'd, 
Whose  godlike  word  the  vast  machinery  mov'd, 
Pickering  the  train  prepar'd,  th'  encampment  found,  645 

The  van  preceded  and  design 'd  the  ground. 
There  Wadsworth's  bread  sustain'd  for  stronger  strife, 
Erst  fainting  bands,  with  renovated  life; 
Oft  he  from  distant  states  the  viands  brought, 
Increas'd  their  strength,  and  fed  them  while  they  fought.       650 

Where  roar'd  their  cannon  as  the  battle  bled, 
Lamb,  Proctor,  Harrison  and  Stephens  sped. 
From  low  Manhattan*  up  the  Highland  steep, 
M'Dougall  pac'd  in  cogitation  deep. 

The  Clintons  there  in  toils  fraternal  vied,  655 

(With  York's  battalions)  void  of  fear  and  pride: 
And  Schuyler's  chief  command  had  led  that  force 
Far  to  the  north — but  sickness  check 'd  his  course. 
Though  there  o'er  St.  Clair  fortune  seem'd  to  frown, 
Shall  fortune  blast  the  warrior's  well-won  crown?  660 


*  New-York  island.    Get,   M'Dougsll  cunimsr.deJ  at  WcSt-Pch.t  ar.d  cthfr  posts  in  the 

HIghiai.ds. 


144  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY. 

Then  Warren,  Mercer,  Nash,  Montgomery,  shone, 
Though  dimm'd  with  blood — too  liberal  of  their  own  I— 
Like  the  large  oak  that  many  a  winter  stood, 
The  tallest  glory  of  its  native  wood, 

Wooster  was  seen  to  stand — and  like  that  oak,  665 

I  saw  him  fall*  beneath  the  fatal  stroke. 
By  ambush'd  foes,  courageous  Scriven  died, 
Where  Georgia's  fatten'd  crops  the  slaughter  hide ; 
While  Davidson,  deep-wounded,  gasp'd  in  gore, 
Where  shoal  Catawba  lav'd  the  troop-lin'd  shore.  670 

When  Herkimer,  sore  maim'd,  still  fighting,  fell, 
Far  o'er  scant  Mowhawk  reach'd  the  Indian  yell : 
Where  Warner,  Gansevort,  the  savage  brav'd, 
And  nigh  Canadian  lakes  their  starry  standards  wav'd. 

As  fly  autumal  leaves  athwart  some  dale,  675 

Borne  on  the  pinions  of  the  sounding  gale ; 
Or  glides  thin  gossamer  o'er  rustling  reeds, 
Eland's,  Sheldon's,  Moylan's,  Baylor's,  battle  steeds 
So  skimm'd  the  plain.    Helms  plum'd  and  broad-swords  bright 
Cast  glimses  o'er  the  ground  like  northern  light.  680 

There  quick-ey'd  Arnold,  not  a  traitor  then, 
Vain,  on  his  courser,  soar'd  mid  mightiest  men : 
Now  fall'n  like  Lucifier,  the  son  of  morn, 
By  Britain  brib'd  and  doom'd  to  deathless  scorn: 
For  falsehood  mark'd,  to  infamy  consign'd,  685 

One  grateful  truth  he  left  to  glad  mankind, 
That  in  so  long  a  war  his  lonelyf  crime 
Should  stain  the  annals  of  recording  Time.— 

Then  valiant  Wayne,  with  kindled  anger  warm, 
Bar'd  his  red  blade  and  claim'd  to  drive  the  storm,!  690 

Death-doing  hero !  still  that  bloody  blade, 
(Long  rusting  in  his  hall)  again  display'd, 
Through  wildering  woods  will  guide  the  daring  troop, 
For  ever  watchful  of  the  savage  whoop: — 
Thence  painted  kings  their  broken  faith  shall  rue,  695 

Chas'd  by  the  nimble  horse  in  conflict  new, 
And  gash'd  with  Bayonne's  steel — those  kings  no  more 
Shall  teach  their  tribes  to  thirst  for  captive  gore ; 

*  At  Ridgefield  in  Connecticut,  when  the  military  stores  were  burned  at  Danbury. 
•(•  By  this  it  is  meant,  that  there  was  not  any  other  person  of  eminence  in  the  America* 
army  guilty  of  treachery  during  our  revolution. 
t  He  commanded  the  corps  which  took  Stony-Point  by  norm. 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY.  145 

For  valiant  Wayne  shall  bid  the  woods-war  cease, 

And  give  the  taste  of  civil  arts  with  peace.  700 

'Twas  then  th'  undaunted  Daytons,  sire  and  son, 
With  Jersey-blues  their  diff 'rent  trophies  won : 
With  these  Cadwallacler  fresh  levies  brought, 
And  Dickenson,  though  Penn's  disciple,  fought. 
Then  Huger,  Maxwell,  Mifflin,  Marshalls,  Read,  705 

Hasten'd,  from  States  remote,  to  seize  the  meed : 
Howell's  and  Davie's  swords,  'mid  thousand  deaths, 
The  laurels  cropt  to  twine  with  myrtle  wreaths. 
While  Smallwood,  Parsons,  Shepherd,  Irwin,  Hand, 
Guest,  Weedon,  Muhlenburg,  leads  each  his  band ;  710 

While  Thompson,  Hogan,  Scott,  whom  adverse  stars 
Long  captur'd  held,  return  to  toil  in  wars; 
While  Poor  and  Woodford  yield  in  tents  their  breath, 
Stark  rode  victorious  in  the  field  of  death ; 
The  mountains-green,  that  witness'd  first  his  fame,  715 

From  rocks  to  rocks  resounded  far  the  name. 
As  the  tough  horn-beam  (peering  o'er  those  rocks), 
With  gnarled  grain  the  riving  thunder  mocks ; 
Indignant  Allen,  manacled  in  vain, 
With  soul  revolting,  bit  the  British  chain.  720 

Not  last,  though  smallest,  DePware's  dauntless  throng, 
With  Bedford,  Hall,  and  Kirkwood  grace  the  song: 
Nor  less  the  song  of  southern  chiefs  shall  tell, 
How  Sumner  bled,  and  Campbell  conquering  fell; 
Moultrie,  and  M'Intosh,  and  Elbert  stood,  725 

Though  foil'd,  invincible,  in  streams  of  blood ; 
What  time  resistless  Albion's  torrent  force 
Swept  round  the  south  its  wide  and  wasting  course. 
Her  dreadless  horsemen,  high  with  conquest  flush'd, 
Through  States  subdued,  like  winds  impetuous  rush'd!          730 
From  them  militia  bands  were  seen  to  fly, 
Light  as  the  rack  that  scuds  along  the  sky  : 
And  oft,  our  leaders,  with  a  gallant  few, 
(Names  dear  to  fame!)  the  noble  strife  renew. 
Moore,  Gadsden,  Caswell,  Rutherford,  and  Ash,  73.* 

With  Bryant,  bade  the  flint  of  battle  flash  ; 
While  Gregory,  Butler,  Williamson,  and  Clark, 
Bull,  Lawson,  Stephens,  fed  the  growing  spark, 

U 


146  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY. 

Wliich,  Brenan,  Lacey,  Sevier,  taught  to  burn, 

And  from  King's-mountain*  back  on  Britain  turn ;  740 

'Till,  rous'd  by  Cleveland's,  Shelby's  fanning  breath, 

It  ran,  like  lightning,  o'er  the  pitch-pine  heath. 

To  turn  its  havoc  headlong  on  his  foes, 

A  whirlwind  from  the  north,  then  Greene  arose ; 

His  brandish'd  steel  a  burning  meteor  glar'd,  745 

'Mid  blackness  bickering  fire  his  way  prepar'd ; 

While  Marion,  Pickens,  Sumpter,  thund'ring  loud, 

Roll'd  down  their  dark'ning  cliffs  a  living  cloud; 

Like  spirits  of  the  storm,  beside  great  Greene, 

Young  rivals,  Lee  and  Washington,  were  seen, —  750 

Wheeling  their  squadron 'd  horse.     There  Howard  came, 

And  shot  through  Tarleton's  ranks  pernicious  flame. 

Two  Pinckneys  came,  in  war,  in  peace  both  great, 

And  both  conspicuous  for  a  wreath  of  State  : 

Two  Williams,  diff 'rent  though  their  place  of  birth,  755 

Alike  their  prowess,  and  alike  their  worth. 

Howe  from  the  south,  to  eastern  climates  hied, 
And  hail'd  at  Hudson's  forts  our  rising  pride ! 
There  what  brave  youths  for  arms  relinquish'd  books, 
Cobb,  Varnum,  Ogdens,  Huntingtons,  and  Brooks.  760 

There  Swift,  Hull,  Sherburn,  Olney,  Smiths  were  found, 
And  Hamilton,  "  by  both  Minervas  crown'd." 
Nor  shall  my  numbers  pass  unheeded  by 
The  Wyllys  brothers — one  beneath  the  sky 
Sleeps  in  the  western  wild — his  bosom  gor'd  765 

With  barb'rous  wounds — in  many  song  deplor'd. 
Nor  shall  the  Trumbulls  not  my  lay  inspire, 
Distinguish'd  offspring  of  a  glorious  sire  ! 
Nor  shall  my  lay  withhold  the  just  applause 
From  foreign  chiefs  who  came  to  aid  our  cause :  770 

Their  various  garbs  and  arms,  and  language  strange, 
To  lend  more  service,  straight  the  warriors  change. 
Steuben,  mature  in  years,  from  Prussia's  plains, 
The  peerless  Frederick's  art  of  war  explains. 
Fayette's  light  corps  its  well-earn 'd  fame  supports,  775 

And  Armand's  legion  rash  adventures  courts. 
With  Poland's  suff'rings  rankling  in  his  mind, 
Our  levied  forces  Kosciusko  join'd, 

*  This  alludes  to  the  signal  defeat  of  Colonel  Ferguson,  at  King's-mountain,  by  a  gallant 
tody  of  mountaineers,  under  the  command  of  the  officers  here  mentioned. 


ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY.  147 

Expert  to  change  the  front,  retreat,  advance, 

And  judge  of  ground  with  military  glance:  780 

While  strong  Pulaske's*  troops  for  battle  rave, 

Intrepid  swordsmen !  bravest  of  the  brave ! 

These  chiefs  illustrious  led,  in  part,  the  host ; 

But  who  can  name  Columbia's  countless  boast  ? 

Who  count  the  sands  by  eddying  whirlblasts  driv'n,  785 

Or  number  all  the  stars  that  rise  in  heav'n? 

Yet  stir  one  sleeping  image,  straight  the  brain 
Leads  kindred  myriads  with  a  magic  chain ; 
While  all  the  shapes  to  mem'ry  that  belong, 
In  shadowy  cohorts  swell  the  subject  throng.  790 

When  night  and  solitude  o'er  earth  and  skies 
Extend  their  gloom,  what  forms  of  heroes  rise 
Full  on  my  view !  what  feats,  that  grac'd  each  band, 
Till  peace,  with  independence  bless'd  our  landj 

And  oft  in  recollections  sad,  but  dear,  795 

I  soothe  long  absence  with  a  secret  tear — 
Where'er  I  wander,  or  where'er  I  rest, 
The  love  of  country  warms  my  lab'ring  breast; 
And  as  the  flame  within  my  bosom  burns, 

Each  trembling  feeling  tow'rds  Columbia  turns.  800 

'Tis  like  the  steel  whose  magnet-instinct  guides 
O'er  unknown  oceans  and  bewild'ring  tides, 
And  though  the  lone  bark,  wrapp'd  in  darkness,  roll, 
Still  points  its  path  and  vibrates  to  the  pole. 

Speak,  ye  who  youthful  felt  the  big  tear  start,  805 

As  first  your  home  ye  left  with  heavy  heart, 
The  bliss  (long  years  elaps'd)  to  see  that  spot ! 
Alike  the  marble  dome  and  mud-wall'd  cot 
Restore  to  mind  the  sports  and  joys  of  youth, 
Each  heartfelt  proof  of  innocence  and  truth  !  810 

How  each  remember'd  toy  the  scene  endears, 
And  home  the  loveliest  place  on  earth  appears ! 
Thou  humble  spot  beneath  Columbia's  skies, 
Where  dawn'd  the  day-star  on  my  opening  eyes, 
Can  I  forget  thee  in  this  distant  scene,  815 

Though  ocean  rolls  a  world  of  waves  between? 

*  Slain  with  many  of  his  legion  at  the  attack  on  Savannah. 


148  ON  THE  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY. 

How  oft  some  spirit  deign'd,  from  blissful  bow'rs, 

With  dreams  of  thee  to  charm  my  sleeping  hours ! 

Thoughts  not  my  own,  still  whisper'd  soft  and  clear, 

As  songs  of  seraphs  to  th'  unsensual  ear,  820 

With  kind  delusion  cur'd  my  waking  pains, 

Whether  'mid  deaths  I  slept  on  tented  plains ; 

Or  tir'd  with  travel  on  some  desert  steep, 

Or  rock'd  in  cradles  of  the  roaring  deep ; 

Or  when  my  sails  at  crafty  courts  were  furl'd,  825 

In  many  a  region  of  this  restless  world. 

While  yet  detain'd  beneath  Iberian  skies, 
Still  for  my  native  land  new  longings  rise: 
Me  keen  remembrance  goads,  by  seas  confin'd, 
While  all  my  country  rushes  on  my  mind.  830 

Fir'd  at  the  name,  I  feel  the  patriot  heat 
Throb  in  my  bosom,  in  my  pulses  beat, 
And  on  my  visage  glow.    Though  what  I  feel 
No  words  can  tell — unutterable  zeal! — 

Yetthou,  Omniscient!  whose  all-searching  eyes  835 

Behold  the  hidden  thoughts  that  in  us  rise, 
Accept  the  silent  pray'r — "  increase,  secure, 
My  country's  bliss,  while  nature's  self  endure ; 
'Till  pass'd  the  race  of  man,  like  fleeting  wind, 
Whose  viewless  current  leaves  no  trace  behind,  840 

Th'  irrevocable  voice  from  Heav'n  absorb 
In  smould'ring  flames,  the  annihilated  orb!" 


A 

POEM 

ON  THE  DEATH  OF 

GENERAL  WASHINGTON, 

PRONOUNCED 

At  the  House  of  the  American  Legation,  in  Madrid, 
on  the  4th  Day  of  July,  1800 ; 

BEING    THE 

TWENTY-FOURTH  ANNIVERSARY 

OF  THE 

INDEPENDENCE 

OF  THE 

UNITED  STATES 

OF 

AMERICA, 


TO 

MRS.  WASHINGTON, 

At  Mount- Vernon. 


Madrid,  February  22,  1800. 
DEAR  AND  RESPECTED  MADAM, 

A  OO  long  was  I  an  inmate  of  your  hospitable  family,  and  too 
intimately  connected  with  the  late  illustrious  head  of  it,  not  to 
share  in  the  poignancy  of  your  distress  for  the  death  of  the  best  of 
husbands.  The  loss  of  the  most  distinguished  man  of  the  age  is 
an  event  which  has  produced  an  extensive  mourning  in  Europe  as 
well  as  in  America.  On  the  return  of  this  day,  which  was  sig 
nalized  by  his  birth,  and  which  was  accustomed  to  be  celebrated 
with  heartfelt  festivity  throughout  the  United  States,  what  mingled 
ideas  crowd  upon  the  recollection !  Grief  more  genuine  or  more 
universal  was  never  manifested  in  any  age  or  in 'any  nation. 
While  a  grateful  country  offers  to  you  the  joint  tribute  of  sym 
pathetic  tears,  I  am  encouraged  to  hope  that  the  solitary  condo 
lences  of  an  absent  friend  will  not  be  unseasonable  or  unaccepta 
ble.  Accept,  then,  that  pledge  of  my  sincere  affection  and  re 
spect  for  you.  In  the  season  of  severe  afflictions,  I  know  you  were 
ever  disposed  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  friendship,  reason,  and  re 
ligion.  When,  nearly  nineteen  years  ago,  you  were  bereaved  by 
death  of  a  dear,  an  only  son,  after  having  mentioned  the  superior 
motives  for  resignation  to  the  dispensations  of  the  Deity,  I  at 
tempted  to  administer  some  consolation,  by  showing  that  the  leni 
ent  hand  of  time  might  mitigate  the  severity  of  grief,  and  that 
you  had  still  the  prospect  of  enjoying  many  good  days  on  earth 
in  the  society  of  the  best  of  friends,  as  well  as  in  beholding  your 
grand-children  happily  established  in  life,  as  a  comfort  for  your 
more  advanced  years.  Highly  favoured  have  you  been  by  Provi 
dence,  in  the  uninterrupted  fruition  of  those  felicities,  until  the  late 
fatal  stroke,  which  has  removed  all  you  held  most  dear  for  ever 
from  this  world.  Having  lived  long  enough  for  himself,  and  long 
enough  for  glory,  he  has  gone  before  us  from  these  mutable 
scenes  of  trouble  to  the  mansions  of  eternal  rest. 


152  LETTER  TO  MRS.  WASHINGTON. 

We,  too,  are  hastening  to  follow  him  "  to  that  undiscovered 
country  from  whose  bourne  no  traveller  returns."  The  only  dif 
ference  is,  whether  we  shall  commence  our  journey  a  few  days 
sooner  or  later.  In  either  case  the  idea  of  meeting  our  dear  de 
parted  friends  will  serve,  in  some  degree,  to  cheer  the  gloomy 
passage.  To  those  who  have  already  passed  into  the  vale  of  de 
clining  life,  it  is  true  every  thing  here  below  ought  to  appear  too 
transitory  and  too  short-lived  to  allow  them  to  calculate  on  per 
manent  enjoyments.  If  the  consolation  which  was  once  natu 
rally  drawn  from  the  expectation  of  still  seeing  many  good  days 
on  this  earth,  be  diminished,  the  resources  of  reason  and  religion 
are  everlasting  as  they  are  inexhaustible.  The  noble  sentiments 
and  principles  of  your  departed  husband  remain  for  your  support. 
Your  long  alliance  with  that  exalted  character  cannot  fail  to  ele 
vate  your  mind  above  the  pressure  of  immoderate  and  unreason 
able  sorrow :  we  are  apt  to  assimilate  ourselves,  as  far  as  we  are 
able,  to  the  character,  and,  as  it  were,  to  identify  our  own  with 
the  destinies  of  those  we  love.  Your  hope  of  happiness  is  with 
him  on  high.  But  without  suffering  your  intellectual  view  to  be 
diverted  from  that  higher  contemplation,  may  you  not  experience 
some  soothing  sensations  in  contemplating  a  whole  people  weep 
ing  over  the  tomb  of  your  beloved ;  in  seeing  them  strive  to  be 
stow  unequalled  honours  on  his  memory,  and  in  knowing  that  they 
wish  to  alleviate  your  sorrow  by  a  participation  of  it?  And  may 
you  not  derive  some  rational  comfort  from  the  recollection  that  the 
great  and  good  man  whom  we  now  mourn  as  having  been  subject 
to  the  lot  of  mortality,  has  faithfully  discharged  every  duty  in 
life;  from  a  belief  that  he  has  now  entered  upon  a  glorious  im 
mortality  ;  and  from  a  conviction  that,  after  having  rendered  to 
his  country  more  important  services  than  any  other  human  cha 
racter  ever  performed,  his  example  will  continue  to  be  a  blessing 
to  mankind  so  long  as  this  globe  shall  exist  as  a  theatre  for  human 
action  ?  Since  the  fatal  news  reached  me,  I  have  found  my  heart 
so  much  oppressed  as  not  to  be  able  to  give  vent  to  those  effusions 
which  can  alone  afford  me  some  relief.  I  wished  to  express  my 
sensations,  but  felt  myself  incapable  of  the  effort :  so  true  is  the^ 
observation  of  the  author  of  the  pathetic  elegy  on  Mr.  Addison: 

"  What  mourner  ever  felt  poetic  fires ! 
Slow  comes  the  verse  that  real  woe  inspires; 
Grief  unaffected  suits  but  ill  with  art, 
Or  flowing  numbers  with  a  bleeding  heart." 


LETTER  TO  MRS.  WASHINGTON.  153 

When  my  own  grief  shall  become  a  little  moderated,  I  propose 
to  indulge  my  melancholy  meditations  in  endeavouring  to  delineate 
such  features  of  the  character  of  the  deceased  father  of  his  coun 
try,  and  such  events  of  his  interesting  life,  as  have  left  the  most 
indelible  impressions  on  my  mind.  I  shall  thus  procure  the 
double  advantage,  first,  for  myself,  of  holding  a  kind  of  spiritual 
intercourse  with  him ;  and,  next,  of  exhibiting  for  others  an  ad 
mirable  model  for  imitation.  Could  I  flatter  myself  with  the  ex 
pectation  of  being  able  to  express  (in  any  adequate  proportion) 
what  I  know  and  what  I  feel  on  a  subject  which  will  employ  the 
pens  of  innumerable  writers,  I  might  then  hope  to  do  not  less 
justice  to  his  public  and  private  virtues  than  others.  For,  con 
scious  I  am  that  few  have  had  opportunities  of  knowing  him  bet 
ter,  and  that  none  could  appreciate  more  justly  his  morals  and 
his  merits.  If  the  task  which  gratitude,  affection  and  duty  im 
pose  shall  not  be  executed  in  a  manner  too  unworthy  of  the  sub 
ject,  even  in  my  own  judgment,  I  shall  ask  your  acceptance  of 
the  production  when  finished.  In  the  mean  time,  may  you  re 
ceive,  while  here  on  earth,  every  species  of  consolation  of  which 
an  afflicted  and  virtuous  mind  is  susceptible :  and  may  the  choicest 
of  heaven's  benedictions  attend  you  through  the  whole  period  of 
your  existence.  Such  is  the  fervent  prayer  of 
Your  most  affectionate 

And  most  obliged  friend  and  servant, 

D.  HUMPHREYS. 

P.  S.  I  request  you  will  present  my  most  affectionate  regards 
to  Mrs.  Stuart  and  family,  to  all  your  amiable  grand-children,  to 
Mr.  Lear,  Dr.  Craig  and  family,  and,  in  general,  all  my  ancient 
friends  in  your  neighbourhood.  Mrs.  Humphreys,  although  she 
has  not  the  honour  of  being  personally  known  to  you,  cannot  but 
take  a  deep  interest  in  your  afflictions.  She  requests  me  to  ten- 
tier  the  homage  of  her  best  respects  to  you. 


TO 

MRS.  WASHINGTON, 

At  Mount-Vernon. 


Madrid,  July  5,  1800. 
DEAR  AND  RESPECTED  MADAM, 

J.N  conformity  to  the  intimation  given  in  my  letter,  dated  the  22d 
of  February  last,  I  now  dedicate  to  you  a  Poem,  on  the  death  of 
your  late  husband,  delivered  yesterday,  at  the  house  of  the  Ame-» 
rican  legation  in  this  city,  in  presence  of  a  respectable  number  of 
persons  belonging  to  different  nations.  Their  partiality  to  the 
subject  led  them  to  listen  to  it  with  peculiar  indulgence.  And 
from  you,  I  flatter  myself,  it  will  meet  with  no  unfavourable  recep 
tion,  even  if  it  should  not  have  the  desired  effect  of  diminishing  the 
source  of  your  sorrow,  as  it  contains  a  representation  (though  but 
an  imperfect  one)  of  my  melancholy  sensations— and  as  it  is  rather 
the  production  of  the  heart  than  of  the  head.  When  I  wrote  to 
you  on  the  22d  of  February  last,  I  was  ignorant  that  day  had  been 
set  apart  as  sacred  to  the  memory  of  General  Washington.  I  was 
unconscious  that  the  voice  of  mourning  was  raised  at  that  moment 
throughout  every  district  in  the  United  States  for  your  and  their 
irreparable  loss.  Yet,  on  a  day  which  had  been  rendered  for  ever 
memorable  by  his  birth,  it  was  so  natural  for  the  feelings  of  the 
whole  nation  to  be  in  sympathy,  that  I  could  not  fail  of  participat 
ing  in  the  mournful  solemnity  which  I  afterwards  found  had  beei> 
recommended  by  the  President  to  the  people  of  the  union. 

The  anniversary  of  Independence  produces,  in  some  sort,  a  re 
novation  of  the  same  sentiments.  For  who  can  separate  the  idea 
of  our  Washington  from  that  of  our  Independence  ?  Who  can  avoid 
renewing  their  lamentations,  that  he,  who  contributed  so  largely 
to  the  establishment  of  it,  is  now  no  more?  That  he  was  raised  up 
by  Heaven  to  be  more  instrumental  than  any  other  mortal  in  ob 
taining  the  acknowledgment  of  our  right  to  be  an  independent 
nation,  and  in  securing  the  enjoyment  of  our  civil  liberty  under  a 
good  form  of  government,  no  one  has  ever  pretended  to  deny.  For 
the  accomplishment  of  this  glorious  destiny,  it  was  indispensably 
necessary  that  he  should  have  been  born  just  so  long  before  the 


156  DEDICATION. 

revolution,  as  to  have  acquired  all  the  qualities  of  body  and  mind 
adequate  to  the  performance  of  the  important  part  he  was  called 
upon  to  act.  This  observation  has  probably  often  occurred  and 
been  expressed.  But  I  beg  leave  to  mention  another  which  has 
not,  to  my  knowledge,  hitherto  been  made.  It  seems  not  unrea 
sonable  to  suppose  (from  the  wonderful  change  of  sentiments 
which  has  since  taken  place  in  France)  that  his  death  was  or 
dained  by  Providence  to  happen  exactly  at  the  point  of  time 
when  the  salutary  influence  of  his  example  would  be  more  exten 
sively  felt  than  it  could  have  been  at  any  other  period.  So  that 
it  may  be  said 'of  him,  with  peculiar  propriety,  that  his  whole 
existence  was  of  a  piece,  and  that  he  died  as  he  lived,  for  the 
good  of  mankind.  Perhaps  the  efficacy  of  his  example  could  not 
be  so  much  needed  at  any  moment  hereafter  as  it  is  at  present, 
to  recommend  systems  of  morals  and  manners  calculated  to  pro 
mote  the  public  felicity.  Had  he  died  when  the  Directory  go 
verned  France,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  his  name,  if  not  loaded 
with  obloquy,  would,  at  least,  have  been  treated  with  contempt 
in  that  country,  and,  as  far  as  it  was  possible,  consigned  to  obli 
vion.  The  circumstances  are  now  greatly  changed,  and  the  good 
and  the  brave  in  that,  as  in  eveiy  other  nation,  consider  them 
selves  as  having  lost  in  him  the  ornament  and  glory  of  the  age. 
In  the  British  dominions  distinguished  honours  have  been  paid  to 
his  memory.  In  France  itself,  a  public  mourning*  has  been  de 
creed  for  his  death.  There  those  descriptions  of  men  just  now 
mentioned  have  given  utterance  to  their  generous  feelings,  and 
the  cry  of  grief  and  admiration  has  resounded  in  the  very  place 
where  the  howling  of  rage  and  malediction  was  but  lately  heard. 
In  the  funeral  eulogium  pronounced  by  Fontanes,  at  the  command 
of  the  French  government  (of  which  I  have  made  and  enclosed 
a  translation  for  your  perusal),  you  will  find  many  correct,  useful, 
and  sublime  ideas.  The  men  who  now  possess  the  supreme  power 
have  ordered  the  models  of  public  virtue  (if  I  may  so  express 
myself)  personified  at  different  epochas,  to  be  placed  before  them. 
The  bust  of  General  Washington  is  associated  with  those  of  the 
greatest  human  characters  that  have  ever  existed.  This  is  a 
happy  presage  of  better  intentions  and  better  times :  for  ambition 
and  selfishness,  shrinking  from  his  presence,  could  ill  support 
the  mute  reproaches  of  that  awful  marble. 

In  either  extremity  of  life  so  immediately  does  the  lot  of  Gene 
ral  Washington  appear  to  have  been  the  charge  of  heaven !  Since 
the  mortal  as  well  as  the  natal  hour  is  -unchangeably  fixe dy  it 

*  See  the  order  of  the  day  of  the  First  Consul  of  France  in  the  appendix. 


DEDICATION.  157 

becomes  our  duty  to  acquiesce  in  the  wise  dispensations  of  the 
Deity.     The  illustrious  father  of  his  country  was  long  since  pre 
pared  for  this  event.     You  well  remember,  when  his  life  was  de 
spaired  of  at  New- York,  he  addressed  these  words  to  me :    "  I 
know  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  ever  I  shall  rise  from  this  bed, 
and  God  knows  it  is  perfectly  indifferent  to  me  whether  I  do  or 
not." — Amidst  all  the  successes  and  all  the  honours  of  this  world, 
he  knew,  "that  no  man  is  to  be  accounted  happy  until  after  death." 
Happy  is  it  that  the  seal  of  immortality  is  set  on  the  charac 
ter  of  him,  whose  counsels  as  well  as  actions  were  calculated  to 
increase  the  sum  of  human  happiness.     Those  counsels  are  now 
the  more  likely  to  be  spontaneously  obeyed,  since  his  career  has 
been  successfully  finished,  and  since  it  is  every  where  fashionable 
to  speak  of  his  talents  and  services  in  terms  of  the  highest  ap 
plause.     In  fine,  the  world  is  disposed,  in  this  instance,  to  do  jus 
tice  to  the  most  unsullied  worth  it  has  perhaps  ever  witnessed. 
While  heroes,  and  statesmen,  and  nations  contemplate  with  com 
placency  his  public  life  as  a  perfect  model  for  a  public  character, 
it  remains  for  those  who  knew  him  in  the  calm  station  of  retire 
ment  to  demonstrate  how  dearly  they  prized  his  amiable  disposi 
tions  and  domestic  virtues,  by  imitating  his  conduct  in  private  life. 
To  be  great  is  the  lot  of  few — to  be  good  is  within  the  power  of  all. 
What  are  the  inestimable  consolations  of  a  good  conscience  in  the 
hour  of  afflictions,    no  one  knows  better  than  yourself;    and  it 
ought  not  to  be  indifferent  to  you  that  posterity  too  will  know, 
that,  in  all  your  social  relations,  and  in  discharging  all  the  duties 
of  your  sex,  the  whole  tenour  of  your  behaviour  has  been  highly 
exemplary,  and  worthy  of  the  most  unreserved  approbation:  in 
deed,  that  it  has  been  worthy  of  the  wife  of  General  Washington. 
With    such  consolatory  reflections   I  bid   you    an  affectionate 
adieu,  in  renewing  the  assurances  of  the  great  regard  and  esteem 
with  which 

I  have  the  honour  to  be, 

Dear  and  respected  Madam, 
Your  sincere  friend, 

And  most  humble  servant, 

D.  HUMPHREYS. 

P.  S.    I  request  my  best  respects  may  be  offered  to  all  my 
friends  with  you  and  in  your  vicinity.    . 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


JjINCE  the  following  Poem  will  probably  be  perused  by  some  fo 
reigners  who  have  not  much  acquaintance  with  the  United  States, 
it  was  presumed  that  it  might  not  be  improper  to  furnish  some 
illustrations  of  it  in  the  notes. 

As  the  life  of  General  Washington  excited  so  much  admiration, 
and  his  death  such  universal  sorrow,  it  was  imagined  no  commu 
nications  could  be  unwelcome  to  the  public  which  might  tend  to 
give  a  just  idea  of  the  purity,  disinterestedness  and  friendship  of 
that  distinguished  character.  Such  is  the  tendency  of  his  letters 
to  the  author,  written  in  the  confidence  of  friendship,  and,  con 
sequently,  not  meant  for  the  public  eye.  But  now  that  the  cur 
tain  is  drawn  by  death,  it  was  conceived  that  the  publication  would 
not  only  reflect  credit  upon  the  man  who  composed  them,  but 
even  be  of  some  utility  to  his  country.  And  now  that  he  is  for 
ever  removed  from  us,  it  will  not  be  superfluous  to  remark,  that 
what  might  have  been  considered  by  certain  persons  as  flattery, 
if  published  during  his  life,  cannot  at  present  be  subject  to  that 
imputation. 

The  author  thinks  proper  here  to  offer  some  apology  for  the 
disproportion  which  may  perhaps  be  noticed  between  the  different 
parts  of  the  poem.  Since  several  writers  have  concurred  in  ex 
pressing  more  admiration  for  the  civil  than  for  the  military  talents 
of  General  Washington;  and  since  the  splendour  of  the  late  war 
like  achievements  in  Europe  has,  in  a  manner,  eclipsed  all  the 
martial  glory  that  had  preceded,  so  that  the  events  of  our  revolu 
tionary  war  are  in  danger  of  being  unknown  to  posterity ;  it  was 
deemed  not  improper  to  describe  at  large  the  principal  battle 
which  was  fought  between  the  two  main  armies,  and  which  was 
rendered  the  more  remarkable  from  the  scenery,  season,  and  vi 
cissitudes  that  designated  the  engagement. 

These  are  the  chief  reasons  why  the  author  has  thought  him 
self  justified  in  dwelling  so  long  on  that  part  of  his  subject,  while 
he  has  been  obliged  to  pass  over  many  other  topics  of  importance 
with  so  much  rapidity.  Nothing  has  been  more  admired  among 
mankind  than  the  description  of  ancient  battles,  on  which  the 
fate  of  empires  depended,  and  which  have  been  immortalized  in 


160  ADVERTISEMENT. 

epic  poems.  Whether,  in  the  modern  art  of  war,  equal  interest 
can  be  attached  to,  or  equal  enthusiasm  excited  by  similar  descrip 
tion,  remained  to  be  seen.  For,  certain  it  is,  the  greater  part 
of  modern  poets  have  not  been  equally  successful  in  this  species 
of  composition.  And  this  want  of  success,  it  may  fairly  be  con 
cluded,  has  frequently  happened  from  a  servile  use  of  hackneyed 
expressions,  as  well  as  from  a  confused  mixture  of  ideas,  with 
respect  to  ancient  and  modern  arms  and  tactics.  It  has  not  been 
pretended  that  the  art  of  war  among  the  ancients  was  as  perfect 
as  it  is  among  the  moderns.  But  it  has  been  intimated,  in  pro 
portion  as  the  arts  grew  more  perfect  they  grew  less  complex, 
and  less  capable  of  being  adorned  with  poetical  ornament.  And 
it  has  been  said,  "  that  the  single  combats  of  the  chiefs,  the  long 
dialogues  held  with  the  dying,  and  the  unexpected  rencounters 
we  meet  with,  which  betray  the  imperfection  of  the  military  art, 
furnish  the  poet  with  the  means  of  making  us  acquainted  with  his 
heroes,  and  interesting  us  in  their  good  or  ill  fortune."  It  has 
further  been  said,  "  at  present  armies  are  vast  machines,  ani 
mated  by  the  breath  of  their  General.  The  muse  denies  her  as 
sistance  in  their  evolutions :  she  is  afraid  to  penetrate  the  clouds 
of  powder  and  smoke  that  conceal  from  her  sight  alike  the  cow 
ard  and  the  brave,  the  private  sentinel  and  the  Commander  in 
Chief."  But  is  this  noisome  vapour,  this  terrifying  darkness, 
which  operates  so  mischievously  on  the  sight  of  the  muse  and  on 
the  imagination  of  the  critic,  so  complete  and  so  durable,  as  to 
render  it  impracticable  for  us  to  acquire  any  distinct  idea  of  the 
scenery  ?  Is  it  not  rather  a  poetical  licence  to  assert,  that  the 
Commander  in  Chief  is  not  more  conspicuous  than  the  private 
sentinel?  At  the  same  time  he  is  represented  as  the  only  object 
that  is  worthy  of  attention.  Is  every  illustrious  achievement  con 
cealed  from  view,  or  seen  through  a  contracting  medium  ?  Does 
not  a  certain  degree  of  obscurity  and  indistinctness  for  the  mo 
ment,  like  the  twilight  of  a  checkered  grove,  serve  to  magnify 
and  vary  the  objects  of  vision  ?  Is  there  no  variety  of  sounds  to 
relieve  the  monotony,  no  change  of  circumstances  to  diversify  the 
relation?  No  choice  of  incidents  for  general,  none  for  particu 
lar  description  ?  Can  nothing  that  is  tender  or  pathetic  be  selected 
to  touch  the  sensibility?  Is  there  no  possibility  of  picturing  some 
part  of  the  bloody  field  (with  the  clouds  withdrawing)  to  the 
mind's  eye  as  it  appeared  to  the  bodily  optics  ?  No  means  of  ren 
dering  the  principal  combatants  interesting,  because  they  are  not 
often  to  be  seen  in  single  combat,  and  because  they  cannot  now  be 
unnaturally  employed  in  holding  long  dialogues  with  the  dying, 
and  in  making  us  acquainted  with  the  history  of  the  living  ?  Did 


ADVERTISEMENT.  161 

the  prose  prototypes  of  those  poetical  colloquies  ever  exist?    Does 
the  character  of  the  modern  Commander  in  Chief  become  less 
important  or  less  interesting  from  the  creative  faculty  which  is  at 
tributed  to  him  of  infusing  a  vital  principle  into  his  army  ?     Is  not 
heaven's  all-ruling  Sire  represented  to  our  feeble  comprehensions, 
in  the  majesty  of  his  terrors,  as  being  at  times  surrounded  with 
clouds  and   thick  darkness?     Could   the  ancients  introduce  into 
their  heroic  compositions  the  grand  phenomena  of  nature  with 
as  much  propriety  as  the  moderns  ?     Ask  those  who  have  seen  a 
battle  fought  in  our  own  time,  whether  there  be  nothing  glorious 
in  the  appearance  of  one  MAN,  who,  in  the  midst  of  the  confu 
sion  and  horror  of  the  elemental  conflict,  decides  the  fortune  of 
the  day  ?     Is  he  attended  with  no  tremendous  apparel,  which  can, 
furnish  truly  poetical  images?     Is  there  nothing  dreadfully  sub 
lime  in  the  thunder  of  cannon,  the  charge  of  cavalry,  and  the 
moving  line  of  infantry,  whose  naked  steel  bears  down  all  before 
it?     Nothing  unspeakably  animating  in  modern  martial  music? 
But  let  the  writer  feel  his  subject;  let  him  rush  rapidly  with  his 
reader  into  the  hurry  and  heat  of  the  battle ;  let  animation,  har 
mony  and  movement  be  communicated ;  and  it  is  to  be  supposed 
that  the  human  mind  is  still  susceptible  of  receiving  strong  im 
pressions,  and  of  being  agitated  with  powerful  emotions.     It  is  not 
intended  to  be  decided  here,  that  the  Greek  and  Latin  poets  pos 
sess  no  advantage  over  the  moderns  in  the  copiousness  or  melody 
of  their  languages ;  or  that  poesy  in  those  languages  does  not  ad 
mit  of  more  boldness  in  the  figures,  pomp  in  the  diction,  music 
in  the  cadences,  variety  in  the  numbers,  or  greater  facility  for 
imitative  beauty  in  making  the  sound  an  echo  to  the  sense,  than 
in  most  of  the  living  languages.     This  is  left  to  the  decision  of 
those  who  are  better  acquainted  with  the  subject.     But  what  is 
still   more  fascinating  than   the   charms  of  poesy;   what  more 
likely  to  elevate  the  rising  generation  to  emulate  the  exalted  deeds 
of  their  fathers,  than  the  examples  of  illustrious  men  placed  in 
action  before  them?     Or  what   more  capable  than  glowing  de 
scriptions  of  battles  successfully  fought  for  freedom,  to  keep  alive 
that  fire  of  heroism  which  is  so  essentially  necessary  for  the  de 
fence  of  free  states? 

If  a  coincidence  of  thought  should  be  found  in  this  composition 
with  that  which  has  been  introduced  into  any  other  on  the  same 
subject,  it  ought  to  be  known  that  the  author  had  not  seen  any 
publication,  except  the  eulogy  of  Judge  Minot,  of  Boston,  at  the 
time  when  he  composed  the  following  poem. 


ARGUMENT. 

This  Anniversary  of  Independence  overcast  with  unusual 
glooms — symfitoms  of  extreme  and  universal  affliction  for  the 
death  of  Washington — >my  unutterable  feelings  of  distress — 
his  friends  who  were  present,  how  affected — apostrophe  to  me* 
lancholy — motives  for  endeavouring  to  overcome  the  oppres 
sion  of  silent  grief,  in  ordftr  to  celebrate  h'.s  giorious  achieve 
ments — different  classes  of  people  called  upon  to  sympathise  in 
the  general  sorrow  for  his  death— sketch  of  the  extraordinary 
qualities  of  body  and  mind,  which  distinguished  him  in  youth, 
and  Jilted  him  for  future  public  employments — his  early  mis 
sion—first  military  exploits — subsequent  occupation  in  civil 
and  agricultural  life  until  middle  age — election  as  a  Delegate 
to  the  Jirst  Congress — Great-Britain  forces  us  into  the  revo 
lutionary  war — that  war  different  in  character  and  weapons 
from  the  wars  of  the  Indians  or  ancients —  Washington  is  ap 
pointed  Commander  in  Chief  of  the  American  armies — his  wise 
and  successful  procrastinating  system — battle  of  Monmouth, 
as  being  the  principal  action  fought  between  the  two  main  ar 
mies,  described  in  detail — siege  of  York-Town — difficult  and 
distressing  situations — invincible  firmness  of  the  American 
hero — a  mutiny  suppressed — peace — resignation  of  his  com 
mission  as  Commander  in  Chief — troubles  that  succeeded  in  the 
United  States  for  want  of  a  good  government — Washington^ 
with  the  Federal  Convention,  formed  a  new  Constitution — he  is 
unanimously  chosen  first  President  of  the  United  States,  at  a 
very  tempestuous  period — his  just  system  of  policy  in  general j 
and  particularly  with  respect  to  foreign  nations — an  insurrec 
tion  quelled  without  bloodshed — his  humane  conduct  on  all  occa 
sions  towards  our  enemies,  and  especially  towards  the  abori 
gines  of  America  when  conquered — treatment  of  Africans — 
his  journey  through  the  United  States — their  gratitude  to 
him — unparalleled  prosperity  of  his  administration — his  re 
ward — the  benefits  resulting  from  his  enlightened  policy  not 
limited  to  his  own  country,  but  extended  to  mankind — his  re 
tirement  from  public  life — he  is  again  named  Commander  in 
Chief  a  short  time  before  his  death — that  event  lamented  with 
the  tenderest  sensibility  by  all  our  troops*— though  he  was  so 
extensively  respected  and  beloved,  he  did  not  entirely  escape 
slander — its  impotency — his  last  advice — his  important  services 
in  life,  and  heroic  contempt  of  death,  cited  as  examples — consola 
tions  for  his  widow— view  of  a  hafipy  immortality — spirits  of  the 
brave  and  supernatural  beings  invoked  to  protect  our  orphaned 
land — address  to  the  supreme  Disposer  of  all  things  to  preserve 
our  freedom — vision  of  Washington  concludes  the  poem. 


A  POEM 

ON    THP    DEATH    OF 

GENERAL  WASHINGTON. 


Independence  of  our  western  world, 
Beneath  whose  banner  broad  in  war  unfurl'd, 
With  Washington  I  toil'd!  beneath  whose  shade* 
With  him  beheld  thy  fruits  in  peace  display'd  1 — 
Say  why  such  deep'ning  glooms  this  day  o'erspread,  5 

Thy  annual  feast,  as  for  some  dearest  dead  ? 

Say,  lov'd  Columbians!  what  these  glooms  bespeak  ?f 
Why  paleness  gathers  on  each  alter'd  cheek? 
Why  round  the  shore  and  o'er  each  inland  heath, 
Tolls  from  each  village  tow'r  the  bell  of  death?  19 

Why  stops  the  dance  ?    Why  cease  the  sounds  of  mirth  ? 
What  unknown  sorrow  saddens  half  the  earth? 
What  means  yon  sable  train  in  shadowy  ranks, 
That  dimly  moves  along  Potowmac's  banks? 
Why  on  my  view  ascends  yon  phantom  bier?|  15 

I  fear'd — ah,  woe  to  me!  too  true  that  fear!— 


*  After  having  served  through  the  war  with  General  Washington,  the  authar  accompanied 
him  to  Mount-Vernon,  and  was  the  last  officer  belonging  to  the  army  of  the  United  States 
who  parted  from  the  Commander  in  Chief.  He  afterwards  returned  and  resided  at  that  seat 
during  the  whole  time  which  elapsed  between  the  publication  of  the  present  Constitution 
and  the  election  of  General  Washington  as  first  President :  And  when  Mr.  Charles  Thompson 
came  there,  by  direction  of  Congress,  to  notify  that  event,  the  author  was  the  only  person 
(their  domestics  excepted)  who  attended  the  President  to  New-York,  then  the  temporary 
residence  of  the  government. 

+  Upon  the  news  of  the  death  of  General  Washington  being  communicated  to  the  Ameri 
can  people,  public  deliberations  ceased,  business  was  suspended,  places  of  amusement  were 
shut,  funeral  solemnities  were  performed  in  many  churches,  and  every  possible  demonstration 
of  sincere  mourning  was  manifested  throughout  the  United  States. 

t  The  reader  may  be  referred  to  the  printed  relation  of  the  affecting  manner  in  which  the 
burial  was  conducted  at  the  family  vault,  on  the  bank  of  the  Potowmac. — See  the  general 
order  for  celebrating  the  funeral  obsequies.  Also  the  interesting  description  of  the  military 
proceedings,  on  this  occasion,  in  the  cantonment  of  the  Union  Brigade,  at  the  Scotch-Plains, 
in  New-Jersey,  commanded  by  Colonel  William  S.  Smif»i  formerly  Aid-de-Camp  of  Geneva! 
Washington. 


164  ON  THE  DEATH  OF 

Fall'n  is  the  mighty — Washington  is  dead — 
Our  day  to  darkness  turn'd — our  glory  fled — 
Yes,  that  lov'd  form  lies  lifeless,  dark  in  dust— 
Of  patriots  purest  as  of  heroes  first !  20 

Though  duty  calls  and  friendship  leaves  no  choice, 
Unutterable  feelings  choak  my  voice — 
For  sensibilities  I  bring,  not  less, 
And  greater  grief  than  others,  to  express. 
Then  ask  your  breast,  each  feeling  patriot,  ask,  25 

How  dread  the  duty  and  how  great  the  task  ? 
Yet  who  can  tell  what  sorrow  fills  my  breast? 
Can  all  the  sighs  that  will  not  be  supprest, 
The  struggling  voice  and  eyes  that  overflow. 
Effuse  such  deep,  immeasurable  woe  ?  30 

Then  view  the  scene  of  death,  where  keener  pain 
Palsies  each  nerve,  and  thrills  through  every  vein. 
Ye  sorrowing  inmates  of  his  mournful  dome, 
Ye  sad  domestics,  kindred,  neighbours,  come ! 
Take  a  last  gaze — in  ruins  where  he  lies ! —  35 

Pale  your  mute  lips — and  red  your  failing  eyes— 
But,  dumbly  eloquent,  •  despair  shall  tell, 
How  long  ye  lov'd  him,  and,  ev'n  more,  how  well  J 

Come,  thou!  whose  voice  alone  my  country  hears, 
To  woe  abandon 'd,  and  dissolv'd  in  tears;  40 

Come,  Melancholy !  come — in  sorrow  steep 
The  dirge  of  death,  and  teach  my  words  to  weep ! 
Thee  will  I  woo  in  every  haunted  place, 
And  give  my  bosom  to  thy  cold  embrace. 

Adieu,  ye  gayer  scenes — a  long  farewell  45 

To  festal  domes  where  mirth  and  music  dwell; 
I  seek  the  house  of  mourning — -there,  my  soul, 
Thy  daring  flights,  'mid  damps  of  death,  controul  { 
Or  let  me  rove  where  spectres  haunt  the  glooms, 
In  meditations  lost  among  the  tombs ;  50 

Hold  visionary  converse  with  my  chief, 
And  long  indulge  the  luxury  of  grief. 

Can  stoic  precepts  grief  like  this  assuage, 
Grief  not  confin'd  to  nation,  sex,  or  agej 
Could  apathy  our  sense  of  grief  benumb,  55 

Matter  inanimate,  no  longer  dumb, 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  165 

"Would  find  a  tongue — shall  he,  whose  guiding  sword 

Our  path  to  Independence  first  explor'd, 

Sleep  unremember'd  ?  him  will  none  adorn, 

Whose  wreaths  of  fame  shall  deck  our  sons  unborn,  60 

Whose  independent  soul,  untaught  to  yield, 

Shall  fill  their  breasts  and  fire  them  to  the  field? 

Shall  not  the  western  world  bewail  the  blow 

That  laid  our  chief,  the  first  of  mortals,  low  ? 

And  shall  not  he  (th'  example  plac'd  in  view  65 

For  endless  generations  to  pursue) 

Who  for  his  country  spent  his  every  breath, 

Speak  from  the  tomb  and  serve  it  after  death  ? 

Then  weep  thou  orphan'd  world  !  thy  poignant  grief 
From  nat'ral  tears  shall  find  a  faint  relief.  70 

Ye  choirs  of  children ! — Washington  is  dead — • 
Have  ye  no  sobs  to  heave,  no  tears  to  shed  ? 
Unknowing  your  great  loss,  with  chaplets*  come, 
In  robes"  of  white,  and  strow  with  flow'rs  his  tomb! 
Ye  lovely  virgins  left  to  long  despair,  75 

With  soften'd  features  and  disorder'd  hair, 
The  slow  procession  join  1     Ye  matrons  grave, 
Who  boast  an  offspring  resolute  and  brave, 
Swell  with  your  moan  the  symphony  of  woe ; 
While  ycuth  and  manhood  teach  their  tears  to  flow !  80 

Orphans! — your  benefactorf  is  no  more — 
A  second  parent  lost,  with  pangs  deplore  \ 
Ye  desolated  widows,  weep  him  dead, 
Whose  fleeces  cloath'd  you  and  whose  harvests  fed ! 
Ye  his  co-evals,  whose  dim  west'ring  sun  85 

Nigh  to  that  bourne,  whence  none  returns,  has  run  ; 
Writh  parsimonious  drops  bedew  his  urn ; 
Ye  go  to  him,  but  he  will  not  return. 
Stern-visag'd  vet'rans,  scorning  threats  and  fears, 
With  death  familiar,  but  unus'd  to  tears ;  90 

Ye  who  with  him  for  independence  fought, 
And  the  rough  work  of  revolution  wrought; 
Yc  brave  companions  of  his  martial  cares, 
Inur'd  to  hardships,  in  his  fame  co-heirs  3 


*  Many  solemn  processions,  in  celebration  of  thp  funeral  obsequies  of  General  Washing 
ton,  were  made  in  divers  cities,  towns,  and  villages  of  the  United  States. 

+  Mr.  Lear,  the  confidential  friend  of  General  Washington,  can  disclose  better  than  any 
other  person  what  an  amount  of  property  was  annually  distributed  by  him  in  secret  charities. 


166  ON  THE  DEATH  OF 

Though  in  your  eye  the  big  tear  stand  represt,  95 

Let  sharper  sorrow  sting  your  manly  breast! 

To  worlds  unknown  what  friends  have  gone  before ! 

The  place  that  knew  them,  knows  them  now  no  more; 

Your  seats  at  annual  feasts*  must  be  more  bare, 

Ev'n  ye  must  be  the  wrecks  of  what  ye  were ;  100 

Till  late,  supported  on  his  staff,  appears 

(Like  some  lone  arch  that  braves  a  length  of  years) 

One  hoary  MAN,  all  helpless,  pale,  unnerv'd, 

The  last  alive  with  Washington  who  serv'd ! 

And  ye,  who  oft  his  public  counsels  heard,  105 

Admir'd  his  wisdom  and  his  words  rever'd;        , 

Ye  senators  1  let  mourning's  voice  succeed, 

And  join  the  cry,  "  the  mighty's  fall'n  indeed." 

"  Fall'n  is  the  mighty,"  loads  each  gale  with  sighs, 
"  Fall'n  is  the  mighty,"  shore  to  shore  replies.  110 

Of  him  the  tearful  travellerf  will  speak — 
The  tear  will  wet  the  wandering  sailor'sj  cheek, 
Who,  hearing  'mid  the  storm  his  country's  cry, 
Furls  the  white  canvass  in  a  foreign  sky. 

Of  him,  at  home,  will  speak  each  aged  sire,  115 

As  his  young  offspring  crowd  the  wintry  fire, 
Their  list'ning  ears  with  tales  of  wonder  strike, 
And  say,  "  alas!  when  shall  we  see  his  like?" 

What  talents  rare,  ne'er  lent  before  by  heav'n, 
To  him,  the  glory  of  his  age,  were  giv'n  ?  120 

What  force  of  body,  majesty  of  mind, 
To  make  one  perfect  whole  in  him  combin'd? 
O'er  his  fine  figure  and  distinguish'd  face, 
Life's  rosy  morn  suffus'd  cherubic  grace ; 

While  toils  his  sinews  brace,  his  limbs  dilate,  125 

And  arm  his  breast  to  brave  the  bolts  of  fate. 
What  peerless  portion  of  th'  Almighty's  might 
Kerv'd  the  new  chief,  magnanimous  for  fight? 

*  The  society  of  the  Cincinnati  is  composed  of  the  officers  of  the  army  who  served  their 
country  during  the  revolutionary  war.  Their  annual  meetings  are  held  on  the  fourth  day 
of  July  in  every  State. 

+  The  citizens  of  the  United  States  travelling  or  residing  in  foreign  countries,  universally 
Wore  badges  of  mourning. 

}  Upon  the  news  of  the  death  of  General  Washington  being  received  in  Europe,  the  colours 
on  board  of  American  vessels  were  hoisted  half  mast  high,  and  raiuute  guns  were  fired.  The 
sailors  belonging  to  American  vessels  in  the  Thames  assisted  at  the  church  in  Wspping  at  a 
service  adapted  to  the  occasion. 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  167 

How  o'er  the  rising  race,  by  merit  aw'd, 

He  look'd  and  mov'd  conspicuous  as  a  god  ?  130 

Him  young  a  model  for  our  youth  behold ! 
No  dupe  to  pleasure  and  no  slave  to  gold;* 
Above  low  pride,  nor  smit  with  love  of  pow'r, 
Nor  idly  changing  with  the  changing  hour : 
Each  headstrong  passion  curb'd,  each  sense  refin'd,  135 

Devote  to  virtue  all  his  mighty  mind!— 
That  mighty  mind,  correct,  capacious,  strong, 
Discriminating  clearly  right  from  wrong; 
By  Meditation's  lamp  soon  learn 'd  to  scan 

The  dark  recesses  of  the  heart  of  man —  140 

Modest,  not  bashful,  ev'n  in  timid  youth, 
Nor  obstinate,  but  nobly  firm  for  truth ; 
Of  others'  counsels,  his  own  judgment  such, 
He  priz'd  them  nor  too  little  nor  too  much; 
And  chief,  that  happiest  skill  to  him  was  known,  145 

When  others'  to  prefer  and  when  his  own. 

Virginia  saw  his  great  career  begin, 
Ere  manhood's  earliest  honours  deck'd  his  chin ; 
What  time,  a  legate  through  the  gloomy  grove,f 
To  quench  the  first- seen  spark  of  war,  he  strove:  150 

To  him  so  young  the  task  sublime  consign'd, 
Involv'd  the  peace  or  war:}:  of  half  mankind. 
But  vain  his  task.     The  spark  that  there  began, 
A  fiery  deluge  through  the  nations  ran. 

Who  has  not  heard,  when  round  our  borders  far  155 

Encroachments  wak'd  the  colonies  to  war ; 
He  led  a  band  where  band  ne'er  march'd  before. 
And  dyed  his  maiden  steel  in  savage  gore  ? 
Or  how,  by  perils  press'd,  his  growing  fame 
(When  captur'd  at  the  fort  that  drew  its  name  160 


*  General  Washington  constantly  declined  receiving  any  thing  from  the  public,  but  merely 
for  the  purpose  of  defraying  his  expenses.  At  the  close  of  the  war  he  rendered  an  account 
to  government,  in  his  own  hand-writing,  of  all  the  public  money  which  had  been  expended 
by  or  for  him. 

•)•  The  reader  may  have  recourse  to  the  journal  of  this  mission,  printed  by  authority,  for 
information. 

t  The  American  hero  was  sent,  when  very  young,  by  the  government  of  Virginia,  to 
confer  with  the  French  commander  on  the  frontiers,  and  to  endeavour,  by  checking  en 
croachments,  to  prevent  hostilities.  These,  however ,  shortly  afterwards  commenced  in  that 
quarter,  and  extended  to  all  parts  of  the  world. 


68  ON  THE  DEATH  OF 

From  dire  NECESSITY*)  still  higher  rose? 

Or  how,  -when  Braddock  fell  (though  hedg'd  by  foes, 

Though  weak  with  sickness,  watching,  want  of  food, 

And  midnight  wand'ringf  in  the  howling  wood) 

He  hevv'd  a  glorious  passage,  bold,  discreet,  165 

And  sav'd  an  army  by  a  sage  retreat  ? 

So  through  Misfortune's  path  the  stripling  far'd, 

For  other  fields,  by  early  feats,  prepar'd. 

So  rose  the  youthful  hero's  glory — soon 

To  blaze  and  brighten  in  perennial  noon —  170 

High  o'er  each  earth-born  mist,  that  frequent  shrouds 

Meridian  glory  in  a  night  of  clouds. 

Far  roll'd  the  storm  of  war,  and  o'er  our  scene 
Then  happier  days  began  to  shine  serene. 

'Twas  then  he  honour'd  many  a  civil  trust,  175 

A  judge  and  legislator^:  wise  and  just. 
In  rural  cares  he  plac'd  his  chief  delight, 
By  day  his  pleasure  and  his  dream  by  night — 
How  sweetly  smil'd  his  eye  to  view  his  farms, 
In  produce  rich,  display  unnumber'd  charms;  180 

While  joys  domestic  sweeten'd  every  toil, 
And  his  fond  partner  paid  him  smile  for  smile ! 

Now  had  the  hero  gain'd  life's  fairest  prime, 
What  time  the  fathers  of  the  western  clime 
In  congress  first  assembled — there  his  name  185 

Stood  midst  the  foremost  on  the  list  of  fame. 
Nor  since  this  sublunary  scene  began, 
Have  names  more  glorious  grac'd  the  race  of  man. 
At  first  they  hop'd  redress,  their  wrongs  made  known 
In  mild  remonstrance  with  a  manly  tone:  190 

In  vain  they  hop'd  the  parent  pow'r  would  hear; — 
On  them  she  scornful  turn'd  a  deafen'd  ear. 


*  Fort  Necessity,  which  was  commanded  by  Colonel  Washington,  after  a  gallant  defence, 
was  surrendered  by  capitulation.  The  garrison  was  allowed  to  retire  to  the  settlements. 

+  On  the  day  of  Braddock. >s  defeat,  young  Washington,  who  was  so  weak  fioui  a  fever  as 
to  be  supported  by  a  cushion  on  his  horse,  performed  the  most  arduous  and  meritorious  sei- 
vices.  After  having  conducted  the  shattered  remains  of  the  army  across  the  Monongahela, 
into  a  place  of  safety,  he  proceeded  through  the  dark  and  howling  wilderness  all  night,  in 
order  to  reach  the  camp  of  Colonel  Dunuai ,  and  obtain  the  necessary  succour  as  soon  ,u 
possible.  On  his  arrival  he  fainted,  and  sufteied  a  relapse,  which  lasted  for  a  considerable  time. 

t  General  Washington  was,  for  many  years  before  the  revolution,  a  magistrate  or  Fairfax 
county,  aad  a  memb.ii'  wf  the  Legislature  of  the  Jo.uiuiou  u£  Yii  jiuia. 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  169 

When  reason  faiPd,  they  bade  for  war  prepare, 

And  in  our  country's  cause  all  dangers  dare. 

Then  Britain's  legions  (in  whose  van  he  strove  195 

In  former  fight,  and  seiz'd  amid  the  grove 

That  fort*  where  fair  Ohio  takes  its  name) 

In  hostile  terrors,  like  a  torrent  came. 

To  us  how  .strange  that  hateful  strife  appear'd, 

To  meet  as  foes  whom  kindred  names  endear'dl  200 

No  more  in  woods  and  swamps  the  war  was  wag'd, 

As  when  our  sires  the  native  race  engag'd; 

When  painted  savages  from  mountains  far 

Made  vallies  howl  with  hollow  whoops  of  war; 

Or  when,  in  ambush  hid,  the  bow  they  drew,  205 

And  arrowy  deaths  on  silent  pinions  flew; 

Or  when  from  captive  heads  the  scalps  they  tore, 

And  wav'd  the  trophies  reeking  warm  with  gore. 

But  now  on  broader  plains,  with  banners  gay, 

And  burnish'd  steel  that  flashes  back  the  day,  210 

In  fiercer  hosting  meet,  with  mutual  fires, 

Two  armies  sprung  from  the  same  warlike  sires. 

What  though  nor  ancient  arms  or  armour  shed 

A  floating  splendour  round  each  hero's  head; 

What  though  our  eyes  no  single  chief  behold,  215 

Come  tow'ring  arm'd  in  panoply  of  gold; 

What  though  no  beamy  mail,  no  sun-bright  shields 

Shoot  their  long  lightnings  o'er  th'  astonish'd  fields; 

Nor  flies  the  twink'ling  steel  nor  thund'ring  car, 

Its  wheels  whirl  redd'ning  o'er  the  ranks  of  war;—  22Q 

New  arms  more  fatal  give  man's  rage  new  force, 

Where  modern  tactics  turn  the  battle's  course; 

Where  discipline  through  thousands  breathes  one  soul, 

Combines  their  strength  and  animates  the  whole; 

A  moving  world  obeys  the  leader's  nod,  225 

In  pomp  and  prowess  likest  to  a  god! 

One  spark  of  martial  fire  an  army  warms, 

One  breath  inspires  it  and  one  soul  informs. 

As  wing'd  by  wintry  winds  the  horsemen  move, 

A  running  flame  that  wastes  the  crackling  grove:  230 

The  phalanx  firm  in  uniform  attire, 

Indissolubly  stands  a  wall  of  fire : 


*  Fort  Pitt,  formerly  called  Fort  Du  duesne,  is  situated  a:  the  confluence  of  the  rivers 
Allegany  and  Monongahela,  where  the  waters  assume  the  name  of  the  Ohio.  General  Wash 
ington  commanded  the  Virginia  trooyis  when  this  fort  was  taken  in  a  former  war. 


170  ON  THE  DEATH  OF 

While  flames  and  thunders  from  the  cannon  hurl'd, 
Singe  the  red  air  and  rock  the  solid  world. 

Then  our  great  Chief  was  call'd  to  lead  the  fight,  235 

A  mighty  angel  arm'd  with  God's  own  might! 
To  Washington  the  wise,  prepar'd  by  heav'n 
To  lead  our  host,  the  high  command  was  giv'n. 
He  came  obsequious  to  the  sacred  call, 

Survey'd  the  dangers  and  despis'd  them  all.  240 

Though  in  his  mind  he  found  no  mean  resource, 
He  felt  the  task  too  great  for  human  force ; 
And  plac'd,*  reluctant,  of  our  leaders  first, 
He  in  the  God  of  battles  put  his  trust. 

Long  held  th'  accomplish 'd  Chief  the  Fabianf  name,         245 
(Nor  foes  nor  friends  confest  but  half  his  fame) 
From  beauteous  Boston  drove  'the  royal  ranks, 
Their  inroads  check'd  on  Hudson's  rocky  banks, 
Resolv'd  the  state  to  save  by  wise  delay, 

Nor  risk  our  fortunes  on  one  fatal  day,  250 

But,  when  by  duty  urg'd,  with  dread  delight 
(Like  heav'n's  red  vengeance  rous'd  at  dead  of  night) 
He  rush'd  to  battle.     Witness,  wide  domains ! 
Ye  Jersey  hills  and  Pennsylvania  plains  I 

Witness,  ye  war-graves,  rising  round  our  coast,  255 

Where  rest  the  bones  of  half  the  British  host ! 
Thou,  Monmouth,  witness  through  thy  waste  of  sand, 
The  battle  bravely  fought  as  wisely  plann'd ! 

The  sick'ning  harvest  fail'd  in  summer's  pride, 
The  gaping  ground  for  lack  of  moisture  dried ;  260 

The  foliage  scorch 'd,  the  grass  untimely  sear'd, 
And  dry  and  dun  the  late  green-swerd  appear'd ; 
When  now  from  Schuylkill's  shore  in  strong  array, 
The  royal  host  through  Jersey  wind  their  way ; 
Full  many  a  league  with  weary  steps  retreat,  265 

Through  suffocating  dust,  and  drought,  and  heat: 


*  See  liis  speech  in  Congress  on  accepting  the  office  of  Commander  in  Chief. 

+  As  General  Washington  was,  at  one  period,  erroneously  considered  by  many  of  his 
countrymen,  as  being  too  much  disposed  to  pursue  the  Fabian  system  of  war,  it  was  thought 
the  more  necessary  to  attempt  to  impress  the  public  mind  with  an  idea  of  his  active  and  enter- 
prizing  character  whenever  the  circumstances  would  justify  such  conduct.  The  battle  of 
Monmouth,  and  tht  siege  of  York-Town,  are  particularly  selected  for  that  purpose. 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  171 

Columbia,  rous'd  to  intercept  their  flight, 

Hangs  on  their  rear-guard  like  the  storm  of  night. 

The  dubious  dawn  o'er  Monmouth's  plain  that  shone, 
Crimson 'd  the  clouds  before  the  rising  sun ;  270 

Where  Britain's  cavalry,  in  dreadful  length, 
Stood,  sword  in  hand,  a  living  wall  of  strength  1 
Simcoe's  videttes  by  glimm'ring  embers  move, 
Like  gliding  shapes  in  some  enchanted  grove : 
While  scatter'd  far,  at  first  approach  of  morn,  275 

Tarleton's  light  scouts  now  blew  the  bugle-horn.* 
Mean  while  our  troops,  observant  of  their  plan, 
Sounded  the  matin  trump  along  the  van : 
Straight  at  the  sound,  up  springs,  with  nimble  speed, 
The  ready  rider  on  the  ready  steed;  280 

No  loath'd  delay,  no  hateful  halt  occurs, 
Wheel'd  to  the  charge  with  all  the  speed  of  spurs. 
Red  rose  the  sun  ;  the  sabres  bluely  bright 
Leap'd  from  their  scabbards  on  his  sanguine  light. 
Fairer  than  beauteous  forms  young  fancy  feigns,  285 

Pour'd  Britain's  squadrons  o'er  th'  embattled  plains, 
From  Arab  sires  commenc'd  the  lofty  breed, 
Their  strength  the  thunderf  and  the  wind  their  speed : 
In  Britain's  fields  they  fed,  there  learn'd  to  prance 
In  gorgeous  ranks,  and  meet  the  lifted  lance-—  290 

No  more  in  Britain's  fields  to  feed  at  large, 
Prance  in  proud  ranks  and  meet  in  mimic  charge- 
Unconscious  of  their  fate !  to  fall  in  gore, 
Or  toil  inglorious  on  a  foreign  shore. 

In  flank  the  Chasseur  troops  less  gay  were  seen,  295 

And  false  Columbians  cloath'd  like  them  in  green: 
Ingrates!  to  play  a  patricidal  part, 
And  strive  to  stab  their  country  to  the  heart  J 
To  meet  that  mingled  force,  Columbia's  steeds, 
Long  pamper 'd  high  amid  her  flow'ry  meads,  300 

With  speed  electric  rush'd — the  rapid  band, 
With  horny  hoofs,  uphurl'd  th'  eddying  sand. 
Then  wrapp'd  in  dust  and  smoke  the  fight  began, 
Steed  furious  springs  on  steed,  and  man  on  man: 
As  fire-balls  burst  with  startling  flash  at  night,  *05 

So  clash  Columbian  sabres  sparkling  bright; 

*  Tarleton's  legion  made  use  of  the  tnijle-horn  instead  of  a  trumpet. 
4  Hait  thou  given  the  horse  strength;     Hast  thou  cloathed  his  neck  with  thunder?    Job 
xxxix.  19. 


172  ON  THE  DEATH  OF 

Mixing  with  British  blades,  whose  dancing  flare 

Makes  horrid  circles,  hissing  high  in  air. 

From  steely  helms  incessant  lightnings  flash, 

And  death  sits  frequent  in  the  ghastly  gash.  310 

With  inextinguishable  rage,  so  rush'd 

Both  hostile  lines,  by  mutual  fury  push'd : 

So  toil'd  in  blood,  till  drain 'd  of  wonted  force, 

Promiscuous  fell  the  rider  and  the  horse. 

Though  squadrons  hew'd  down  squadrons,  none  would  yield,  315 

Till  signals  gave  to  wider  war  the  field. 

From  brazen  trains  the  storm  prepares  to  rise, 
And  dusky  wreaths  of  smoke  to  shrowd  the  skies: 
First  silent  gloom  prevails — 'mid  clouds  of  fire, 
Then  deathful  engines  sound  the  onset  dire.  320 

Now  iron  balls  through  less'ning  legions  bound. 
Whiz  red  in  air  and  rock  the  gory  ground : 
So  swells  the  sound  when  torrent  waters  pour 
On  the  stunn'd  ear  th'  intolerable  roar;  ' 

Or  when  tornadoes  black  the  world  assail,  325 

And  burst  th'  eternal  magazines  of  hail. 

Here  leads  great  Washington  Columbia's  band. 
The  brand  of  battle  blazing  in  his  hand ; 
Darts  his  experienc'd  eye  along  the  files, 

And  o'er  the  subject-scene  superior*  smiles.  330 

In  front  of  Britain  Clinton's  vet'ran  form 
Rides  dark  as  night  and  louring  as  a  storm; 
With  gibry  gain'd  in  former  wars  elate, 
His  voice  the  tempest's  and  his  falchion  fate. 

From  all  her  states  Columbia's  warriors  come,  335 

Some  lightly  arm'd — with  deadly  rifles  some — 
These  from  cerulean  mountains  hurried  down, 
In  fringedf  vest  succinct,  tawney  or  brown : 
Beneath  their  aim  the  hostile  leaders  fall, 

For  death  rides  swift  th'  unseen,  unerring  ball.  340 

Militia  bands,  who  fought  to  save  their  farms, 
All  multiformly  march  in  garb  and  arms. 

*  All  those  who  have  seen  General  Washington  on  horse-back,  at  the  head  of  his  army, 
will  doubtless  bear  testimony  with  the  author,  that  they  never  saw  a  more  graceful  or  dig 
nified  person. 

+  The  companies  of  Riflemen  from  the  western  mountains  were  generally  dressed  in  hnnt- 
i»g-shirts  and  trowsers,  of  fawn  aoldur  or  brown,  adorned  with  fringe. 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  173 

The  rest  in  azure  robes,  revcrs'd  with  red, 

Equipp'd  alike,  to  martial  music  tread. 

Now  rang'd,  the  host  in  grand  divisions  stands,  345 

Brigades,  battalions,  squadrons,  troops  and  bands : 

On  either  wing  the  horse  (new  fbrm'd)  appear'd — 

In  front  the  Gen'rals  ordering  loud  are  heard, 

(While  chiefs  of  corps  to  pass  the  order  press) — 

"  To  right  display  the  columns — march!  haltl  dress!"        350 

From  solid  columns  lengthening  lines  now  wheel, 

Front  form'd  to  front,  and  steel  oppos'd  to  steel. 

The  hosts  stretch  opposite  in  equal  length, 

The  same  their  order  and  the  same  their  strength. 

Two  lines  had  each  and  corps  of  strong  reserve,  355 

To  stay  the  lines  where'er  the  battle  swerve ; 

To  turn  the  hostile  flank,  the  charge  sustain, 

To  guard  the  baggage  and  the  batt'ring  train. 

A  cloud  they  move — a  ridge  of  fire  they  stand — 

And  waving  banners  guide  each  silent  band.  360 

Here  shine  the  silvery  stars  in  mystic  trains, 

Fair  as  their  sisters  on  th'  ethereal  plains; 

Above  our  eagle's  hoary*  head  they  shine, 

And  shed  blest  influence  on  each  battling  line. 

There  other  ensigns  point  the  British  course,  365 

With  various  emblems,!  but  united  force. 

There  frowns  the  lion's  port,  conspicuous  far ! 

Here  harps  and  thistles  lead  th'  unnatural  war : 

O'er  hireling  troops  the  German  eagles  cow'r, 

Intent  to  lure  them  to  the  feast  of  gore.  370 

Britons  with  Germans  form'd,  apart,  for  fight, 

The  left  wing  rob'd  in  blue,  in  red  the  right; 

On  adverse  lines  their  march  tremendous  bend, 

Where  young  Columbia's  sons  their  steel  protend; 

With  seried  files  receive  the  rushing  foe,  375 

Deal  wounds  for  wounds  and  parry  blow  with  blow. 

As  ocean's  billows  beat  a  jutting  rock, 

Which  unimpair'd  receives,  repels  the  shock: 

So  Britain's  force  on  firm  Columbia  broke, 

Which  unimpair'd  receiv'd,  repell'd  the  stroke.  380 

*  Foreigners  may  not,  perhaps,  know,  without  being  here  informed,  that  in  the  armorial 
bearings  of  the  United  States,  under  the  emblematical  stars,  is  the  bald  eagle — a  bird  peculiar 
to  America. 

•f  The  British  regimental  colours  are  ornamented  with  a  lion,  the  Scotch  with  a  thistle, 
and  the  Iiish  with  a  harp — the  German  auxiliary  troops  bore  eagles  in  their  banners.— Some 
of  the  standards  of  each  of  these  nations  weie  taken  with  the  army  of  Lord  CornwallS)  at 
York-Town. 


174  ON  THE  DEATH  OF 

Those,  int'rests  not  their  own,  o'er  ocean  brought, 
These  IN  and  FOR  their  native  country  fought. 

The  broad  sun  risen  to  meridian  height, 
Diffus'd  a  flood  of  heat,*  a  flood  of  light ; 
O'er  either  battle  hung  with  fearful  glare,  385 

Shot  burning  beams  and  fir'd  the  angry  air. 
From  both  the  hosts  as  some  faint  soldiers  stray, 
They  meet  unnerv'd,  beneath  the  scorching  day; 
Victors  or  Vanquish'd,  blighted  by  his  beams, 
Together  sought  and  drank  the  scanty  streams—  390 

Of  war  unmindful — mingled  on  the  heath, 
They  fell — but  guiltless  of  each  other's  death. 

While  Britain's  foremost  line  thus  early  foiPd, 
Form'd  on  the  second  as  the  ranks  recoil'd ; 
Between  the  hosts  a  space  now  open'd  large,  395 

Instant  our  chief  bade  sound  the  general  charge. 
No  blythesome  lark  that  chaunts  the  birth  of  light, 
Nor  soothing  Philomela's  notes  at  night, 
Nor  virgin-voice  responsive  to  her  lyre, 

Can  like  the  battle-sound  the  soul  inspire :  400 

Each  milder  thought  in  martial  transport  drown'd, 
Than  music  more,  there's  magic  in  the  sound; 
Through  tingling  veins  a  tide  tumultuous  rolls 
Advent'rous  valour  to  heroic  souls. 

Swift  to  the  sound  he  bade  the  battle  move ;  405 

Of  Bayonne's  bristly  pikes  an  iron  grove! 
Bade  livid  lightning  nearer  bosoms  singe, 
The  scorch'd  skin  blacken  and  the  red  wound  twinge : 
Bade  bick'ring  blades  in  British  gore  be  dyed., 
And  vital  crimson  flow  in  many  a  tide:  410 

Bade  leaden  hail  its  vollied  vengeance  pour, 
And  all  the  thunder  of  the  battle  roar. 

The  battle's  fate  long  undecided  lay, 
And  deeds  immortal  grac'd  the  doubtful  day. 
Some  future  bard,  with  rapture-rolling  eyes,  415 

His  numbers  rising  as  his  raptures  rise, 
Sublim'd,  proportion'd  to  his  theme,  shall  tell 
What  glorious  heroes  for  their  country  fell; 

*  The  28th  of  June,  1778,  the  day  on  which  the  battle   of  Monmouth  was  fought,  vw- 
one  of  the  hottest  ever  known  in  America.     Many  soldiers  expired  from  the  heat  alone. 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  173 

What  various  feats  in  different  parts  were  done, 

The  trophies  gain'd,  the  cannon  lost  and  won:  420 

Where  Lee*  in  front  our  light-arm'd  legion  led, 

How  from  the  giant-grenadiers  they  fled ; 

From  dark  oblivion  snatch  that  soldier's  wife,f 

Who  saw  him  for  his  country  sell  his  life ; 

Saw  every  gunner  round  the  cannon  die,  425 

And  covering  bands,  o'erpow'r'd,  compcll 'd  to  fly; 

Then  as  the  foe  to  seize  that  cannon  came, 

She  touch'd  the  pregnant  brass  with  quick'ning  flame, 

And  cried  "  confusion  on  your  heads  be  hurl'd, 

Here  comes  our  Chief,  the  glory  of  the  world!"  430 

Him  midst  his  chiefs  a  bounding  courser  bore, 

Snorting  thick  clouds  and  scatt'ring  foam  and  gore ; 

With  placid  smile  and  animating  voice, 

That  made  the  wearied  warrior's  souls  rejoice, 

He  came — conspicuous  to  his  own  side  far,  435 

And  breath 'd  fresh  vigour  through  the  broken  war. 

Columbia,  rallying  round  the  godlike  form, 

Swept  o'er  the  dry  sand  like  a  mountain  storm ; 

The  chief  of  chiefs,  our  foremost  band  before, 

Bade  the  dry  sand  be  drunk  with  hostile  gore.  440 

Then  mean  desires  to  reach  the  shelt'ring  coast, 

Resistless,  seiz'd  the  faint  Britannic  host; 

Not  captains  brave  could  wonted  strength  inspire, 

Nor  Clinton,  fearless  'mid  a  flood  of  fire ; 

Who  flew  from  rank  to  rank  their  souls  to  raise,  445 

With  thoughts  of  former  deeds  and  former  praise. 

While  dread  Columbia  urg'd  the  work  of  death, 
The  foe  with  palpitations  pass'd  the  heath : 
The  squadron'd  steeds  that  headlong  sought  the  strand, 
Successive  fail'd  and  bit  the  gory  sand —  450 

The  foot  battalions,  wedg'd  in  firm  array, 
Indissoluble  long,  pursued  their  way : 
But  nought  that  day  great  Washington  withstood, 
Who  sway'd  the  battle  where  he  rode  in  blood. 
As  when  th'  Almighty's  messenger  of  wrath,  455 

Rides  in  the  whirlwind's  desolating  path, 
Such  flames  convulsive  shoots  his  wrathful  eye, 
Th'  uprooted  groves  one  broad  red  ruin  lie; 


*  General  Charles  Lee,  who  had  served  in  former  wars  in  Poland  and  Portugal. 

+  The  wife  of  an  artillerist  really  savtd  a  piece  of  cannon  in  the  manner  here  related. 


176  ON  THE  DEATH  OF 

The  mountains  tremble — so  our  hero's  form 

Wing'd  in  his  crimson  way  the  battle  storm ;  460 

Such  prowess  shedding  through  his  new-rais'd  host, 

As  not  the  foe's  long  discipline  could  boast. 

From  Britain's  rout  the  sun  withdrew  his  eye — 
The  pale  moon  setting  saw  the  legions  fly — 
Now  foul  disorder,  fiight  and  shameful  fear,  46S 

From  the  scarkl  van-guard  gain'd  the  victim  rear. 
Now  many  a  Briton's  last  campaign  was  made, 
His  eye-lids  clos'd  in  death's  oblivious  shade: 
Jerne's  sons,  who  lov'd  our  sacred  cause, 

There  fought  as  foes  and  fell  without  applause:  470 

There  many  a  German,  whom  his  prince  had  sold, 
Sunk  on  the  sand  and  black  in  carnage  roll'd: 
None  knew  the  bodies  though  well  known  before, 
Deform'd  with  gashes  and  besmear'd  with  gore. 
Now  corses,  cannon,  cars  bestrew'd  the  soil,  475 

With  shatter'd  arms  and  former  ill-won  spoil : 
Till  Albion's  remnants,  where  the  billows  roar, 
Reach'd  their  tall  ships  beside  the  Shrewsb'ry  shore. 

What  eagle  flight  can  trace  through  regions  far, 
Th'  immortal  march  of  Washington  in  war  ?  480 

Who  sing  his  conq'ring  arms  o'er  York  that  shone, 
And  deeds  surviving  monumental*  stone? 
How  cloud-hid  batt'ries  rain'd  red  bullets  dire, 
Volcanic  mortars  belch'd  infernal  fire, 

While  baleful  bombs  that  buoy'd  in  ether  rode,  485 

Emblaze  the  skies,  and,  fill'd  with  fate,  explode ! 
Till  great  Cornwallis,  hopeless  of  relief, 
Resign'd  whole  armies  to  a  greater  chief? 
Then  solemn  thanks  by  blest  Columbia  giv'n, 
With  songs  of  gratitude,  rose  sweet  to  heav'n.  499 

What  though  my  lips  no  common  fervour  warm'd 
To  sing  th'  achievements  that  his  arm  perform'd ; 
Though  strong  as  when  I  follow 'd  where  he  led, 
Toil'd  in  his  sight,  or  with  his  mandates  sped, 
Or  bore  his  trophies  to  our/ww'r  su/ireme^  49.5 

I  sink  beneath  th'  immensitv  of  theme. 


*  A  monument  was  ordered  to  be  erected  by  Congress,  at  York-Tuwn,  to  perpetuate 
•lie  remembrance  of  the  surrender  of  Lord  Cornwall's  army. 
*•  Sec  th«  rtsuluiion  of  Congres:  «f  the  7th  »f  Xovt inter,  1781.  in  the  appendix. 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  Iff 

Yet  might  a  muse  that  soars  on  stronger1  wing, 

So  vast  an  argument  divinely  sing; 

Then  should  the  numbers  rise  as  heav'n  sublime, 

Defy  the  ravage  of  corroding  time,  500 

Make  late  posterity  his  deeds  admire, 

And  raptur'd  bosoms  burn  with  more  than  mortal  fil'e. 

Yes,  earth  shall  know  what  arm  the  strife  maintain'd, 
And  who  the  palm  of  independence  gain'd. 
'Twas  that  blest  meed,  to  Washington  so  dear,  505 

Sustain'd  his  efforts  through  the  dread  career. 
Shall  I,  who  knew  the  secrets  of  his  soul, 
His  smother'd  anguish  ere  he  reach'd  the  goal; 
WThen  faint,  with  sickness  visited  by  heav'n, 
His  feeble  band  before  the  foe  was  driv'n —  510 

(Their  snow-tracks*  stain'd  with  blood — their  limbs  by  frost 
Benumb'd)  defeated — all  but  honour  lost;  — 
When  scarcely  hope  surviv'd  the  chilling  blast — 
And  every  hour  of  freedom  seem'd  the  last- 
Shall  I  not  tell  how  firm  he  met  the  shock,  515 
Impassable  his  breast,  a  diamond  rock? 

Though  all  the  fortunes  of  Columbia  lay 
(If  forc'd  to  combat)  on  one  desp'rate  day; 
Though  for  his  country's  cause  so  wrapp'd  in  gloom, 
The  patriot  felt — the  hero  brav'd  his  doom —  520 

If  vanquish'd,  conscious  of  their  destin'd  state, 
Slavery  the  country's — his  a  rebel's  fate! — 
Yet,  not  the  threats  of  death  to  slavery  join'd, 
Could  shake  one  settled  purpose  of  his  mind. 
Stern  independence  steel'd  his  stubborn  breast —  525 

Unmov'd,  by  more  than  mountains  weight  opprest, 
Remain'd  the  matchless  soul — unmov'd  alone 
Th'  unconquerable  soul  of  Washington. 

Nor  were  his  feelings  tortur'd  but  by  foes, 
He  keenly  felt  his  army's  wants  and  woes.  530 

What  time,  unpaid,  ill-clothed  for  years  entire, 
Our  war-worn  legions  felt  distresses  dire ; 


*  This  alludes,  in  a  particular  manner,  to  the  forlorn  condition  of  the  American  army 
during  the  winter  campaign  of  1777. 

2A 


rs  ON  THE  DEATH  OF 

Some  mutinous  unknown,*  in  friendship's  guise, 

Taught  black  revolt  and  bade  the  tunlult  rise : 

To  meet  the  malice  of  his  secret  pen,  53& 

Mild  in  the  midst  uprose  the  first  of  men. 

The  storm  was  hush'd.     The  patriot  legions  prov'd 

How  much  their  country  and  their  chief  they  lov'd: 

Still  could  his  country  in  each  crisis  boast 

His  word  her  treasure  and  his  name  a  host.  540 

All  dangers  brav'd ;  long  toils  and  ills  endur'd, 
Our  cause  triumphant  and  our  rights  secur'd; 
Then  peace,  returning  from  her  native  heav'n, 
Saw  ruthless  war  and  red  destruction  driv'n 
Far  from  our  coast ;  and  view'd  reviving  arts  545 

With  promis'd  blessings  glad  our  grateful  hearts. 

Soon  show'd  our  chief,  retiring  to  his  farms, 
The  jiomp,  of  fioiv'r  for  him  displayed  no  charms; 
He  show'd  th'  ambitious^  who  would  mount  a  throne^ 
Greatness  is  seated  in  the  mind  alone.  $50 

With  what  delight  his  homeward  course  he  sped, 
With  all  his  country's  blessings  on  his  head! 
Our  revolution  to  conclusion  brought, 
His  public  toils  complete  he  vainly  thought; 
But  heav'n  reserv'd  him  for  more  glorious  deeds,  $55 

Whose  height  the  scope  of  human  praise  exceeds. 

In  peace,  our  perils  drew  not  to  a  close, 
While  'midst  ourselves  we  found  more  dang'rous  foes. 
Remember  ye,  the  storm  of  battle  o'er, 

What  other  tempests  lour'd  along  the  shore !  560 

By  gusts  of  faction  how  the  States  were  tost, 
The  feeble  links  of  federation  lost ! 
How  round  the  land  despondency  prevail'd, 
And  bosoms  bold  in  battle  then  first  fail'd ! 


*  The  transaction  here  alluded  to  occurred  at  the  cantonment  of  the  army,  nearNew- 
bnrgh,  State  of  New-York,  in  the  winter  1782 — 3.  For  the  particulars  of  this  extraordinary, 
•vent,  a  reference  must  be  made  to  the  anonymous  letters  which  were  intended  to  excite  3 
mutiny,  for  the  purpose  of  forcing  Congress  to  pay  the  arrearages  due  to  the  troops — 'to  the 
address  of  General  Washington,  and  to  the  resolutions  passed  by  the  delegates  of  the  army 
an  the  occasion.  When  General  Washington  rose  from  bed  on  the  morning  of  the  meeting, 
he  told  the  writer  his  anxiety  had  prevented  him  from  sleeping  one  moment  the  preceding 
night. 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  179 

As  hoarse  with  rage  th'  Atlantic  roars  and  raves,  565 

And  heaves  on  high  his  multitude  of  waves, 
What  time  the  storm,  by  angry  spirits  hurl'd, 
Rocks  the  foundations  of  the  watery  world:— - 
So  rag'd  the  storm  of  anarchy — the  crowd 
By  demagogues  excited,  mad  and  loud,  570 

Their  Pandemonium  held — no  more  was  seen 
The  calm  debate — till  Washington  serene 
From  every  State  conven'd  the  chosen  sires, 
Where  Penn's  fair  city  lifts  her  gilded  spires. 
In  every  breast  the  patriot-passion  glow'd,  575 

While  strains  of  eloquence  unequall'd  flow'd ; 
WThile  on  each  brow  deliberation  sate, 
'Twas  he  presided*  in  the  grand  debate. 
Thence,  form'd  by  sages,  sanction'd  by  his  name, 
To  save  us  from  ourselves  a  compact  came.  580 

A  Constitution  fram'd  on  Freedom's  plan, 
Now  guards  with  balanc'd  pow'rs  the  rights  of  man, 
Alike  from  monarchy  and  mobs  remov'd, 
Its  checks  well-plann'd,  and  by  each  State  approv'd: 
The  people  (soon  to  gladness  chang'd  their  grief)  585 

Turn'd  every  eye  upon  their  ancient  chief. 

To  the  first  office  call'd  by  every  voice, 
His  will  submissive  to  his  country's  choice; 
By  reason's  force  reluctance  overcome, 

Behold  him  meekly  leave  his  darling  home  j  <S90 

Again  resign  the  calm  of  rural  life, 
Again  embarking  on  a  sea  of  strife ! 
Since  deeds  so  recent  in  your  breasts  are  grav'd, 
Why  should  I  tell  our  country  how  he  sav'd ! 
How  'midst  still  rising  storms  he  persever'd,  595 

And  through  a  sea  of  troubles  safely  steer'd ! 

The  tricks  of  state  his  soul  indignant  scorn'dj 
Thence  candid  policy  his  sway  adorn 'd: 
Faith,  honour,  justice,  honesty  his  aim, 

And  truth  and  Washington  were  but  one  name.  600 

When  war  arose  in  many  a  foreign  land, 
A  firm  neutrality  his  wisdom  planned  j 


*  General  Washington  was  President  of  tlie  Convention  which  formed  tbc  present  ConSjl* 

union  of  tl.e  United  States 


180-  ON  THE  DEATH  OF 

Though  warring  pow'rs  alternate  show'd  their 
At  length  they  own'd  the  system  just  and  sage. 

While  insurrection's*  imps  were  seen  to  fly  605 

The  flashing  terrors  of  his  angry  eye  j 
O'er  them  humanity  triumphant  smil'd, 
For  not  the  stain  of  blood  the  triumph  soil'd. 

Though  fortitude  for  him  new-strung  each  nerve, 
Nor  worlds  could  make  him  from  his  duty  swerve ;  610 

Yet  mercy,  loveliest  attribute  divine, 
And  mild  compassion,f  Washington  T  were  thine. 
Thy  voice,  humanity !  he  still  rever'd, 
Thy  small  voice  'mid  the  roar  of  battle  heard. 
To  him  his  fellows,  ev'n  though  foes,  were  dear,  615 

And  vict'ry's  joy  was  chasten'd  with  a  tear. 
Beneath  his  tent  in  war  the  wretched  found 
Ease  from  each  woe,  and  balm  for  every  wound. 
The  conquer'd  savage,  prowling  through  the  wild, 
A  foe  no  more — he  foster'd  as  a  child —  620 

He  bade  constructed  mills  abridge  the  toil 
For  wond'ring  tribes ;  new  harvests  deck  the  soil ; 
And  taught,  to  wean  them  from  the  scalping-knife,J 
The  works  of  peace  and  arts  of  civil  life. 

Where  that  foul  stain  of  manhood,  slavery,  flow'd  625 

Through  Afric's  sons  transmitted  in  the  blood; 
Hereditary  slaves  his  kindness  shar'd, 
For  manumission  by  degrees  prepar'd : 
Return'd  from  war,  I  saw  them  round  him  press,$ 
And  all  their  speechless  glee  by  artless  signs  express.  630 


*  None  but  strangers  to  the  history  of  the  United  States  will  require  to  be  informed,  that 
an  allusion  is  here  made  to  the  happy  suppression  of  the  insurrection  on  account  of  the  ex 
cise  law. 

+  Authentic  documents,  respecting  the  case  of  Captain  Asgill,  in  proof  of  this,  have  been 
long  since  published — others  might  be  produced.  Too  much  praise  cannot  be  bestowed  on 
the  system  adopted,  during  the  first  Presidency,  of  furnishing  gratuitously  to  the  Indians, 
instruments  of  agriculture,  and  utensils  for  domestic  use,  with  the  design  of  introducing 
husbandry,  arts,  and  civilization  among  them,  after  they  had  been  reduced,  by  force  of 
arms,  to  the  necessity  of  accepting  terms  of  peace  from  us.  This  was  effected  by  the  forces 
under  the  command  of  General  Wayne. 

t  A  barbarous  war-instrument,  peculiar  to  the  savages  of  America. 

}  General  Washington,  by  his  will,  liberated  all  his  negroes,  making  an  ample  provision 
for  the  support  of  the  old,  and  the  education  of  the  young.  The  interesting  scene  of  hii- 
return  home,  at  which  UK  author  was  present,  is  described  exactly  as  it  existed. 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  181. 

When,  nigh  ador'd,  too  great  to  need  parade, 
He  through  the  States  his  pleasing  progress  made; 
What  gratulations  pure  the  patriot  met! 
What  cheeks  with  tears  of  gratitude  were  wet ! 
While  useful  knowledge  from  each  State  be  gain'd,  635 

Prais'd  their  improvements  and  their  bliss  explain'd; 
While  bridges,  roads,  canals,  in  every  State, 
And  growing  fabrics  own'd  his  influence  great; 
Such  goodness  mark'd  each  act,  in  every  place 
He  left  impressions  time  can  ne'er  efface.  640 

Then  rose  the  favour'd  States  beneath  his  smile, 
Adorn'd,  enrich'd,  and  strength  en 'd  by  his  toil; 
Then  millions  felt  what  happiness*  ensued, 
And  hail'd  their  country's  father  great  and  good! 

Their  vote  erst  gave  rewards  for  vict'ry  just,  645* 

The  storied  medalf  and  the  laurell'd  bust::}: 
But  now  he  saw  his  fame  in  peace  expand, 
Grow  with  his  years  and  reach  each  farthest  land. 

Though  chiefly  doom'd  to  light  our  nation's  birth, 
Our  luminary  rose  to  bless  the  earth.  650 

His  mind  by  human  frailties  scarcely  stain 'd, 
One  spotless  course  of  rectitude  maintain 'd: 
His  mind,  a  moral  sun,  with  cheering  ray, 
Rejoic'd  to  scatter  intellectual  day, 

A  light  among  the  nations  shining  clear,  655 

To  gild  the  darkness  in  each  hemisphere  f 
Say,  dazzling  conq'i'ors  1  who  as  comets  glar'd,  rf 

How  mean  your  splendour  when  to  his  compar'd! 
Nor  cold  his  mind.    When  cold  his  count'nance  seem'd, 
Within,  concent'ring  rays  still  brighter  beam'd.  66$ 

*  See  Letters  I.  II.  and  III.  in  the  Appendix. 

+  The  medal  voted  by  Congress  to  General  Washington,  in  consequence  of  the  evacua 
tion  of  Boston  by  the  British  army,  as  well  as  that  to  Genera!  Gates,  for  the  Convention  of 
Saratoga,  and  that  to  General  Greene,  for  the  battle  of  Eutaw-Springs,  were  executed  by 
the  first  artists  at  Paris,  under  the  direction  of  the  author  of  this  Poem,  who  availed  himself 
of  the  talents  of  the  celebrated  Abbe  Barthelemy,  and  the  Academy  of  Belles  Lettres  and 
Inscriptions,  to  assist  in  furnishing  the  devices  and  inscriptions. 

t  The  statue  voted  by  Congress  to  the  Commander  in  Chief  of  the  American  armies,  at 
the  close  of  the  war,  is  to  be  placed  at  the  seat  of  government.  The  State  society  of  the 
Cincinnati  in  New-York,  in  concurrence  with  their  fellow  citizens,  are  engaged  in  procuring 
an  equestrian  statue  of  General  Washington,  in  Bronze,  to  be  erected  in  the  Park  of  thac 
city;  an  example  which  will  probably  be  followed  by  many  of  the  principal  towns  in  the 
United  States. 


182  ON  THE  DEATH  OF 

Such  moderation  with  such  firmness  mix'd, 

Just  in  the  golden  mean  his  conduct  fix'd ; 

Alike  with  feeling,  as  with  patience,  blest, 

The  proud  oppressor  and  the  poor  opprest 

He  taught,  that  man  full  oft  by  man  betray'd,  665 

By  heav'n  for  social  happiness  was  made — 

He  taught,  how  long  a  nation  wrongs  may  bear, 

And  when  th"  unknown  of  innovation  dare — 

He  taught  mankind  (if  truth  can  make  them  wise) 

That  for  self-government  their  pow'rs  suffice.  670 

Then  duty's  task  and  glory's  toils  complete, 
He  sought  fair  Vernon's  shades,  his  fond  retreat  1 
JFrom  stormy  care  to  calm  content  retir'd, 
Consol'd  by  conscience  and  by  men  admir'd ; 
He,  like  the  sun  whose  broader  orb  at  ev'n  6/5 

Sheds  brighter  glories  from  the  verge  of  heav'n, 
The  clouds  his  heat  had  rais'd  in  rainbows  drest, 
Descended  great  and  glorious  to  the  west. 

Ev'n  then  his  country  heard  o'er  ocean  far, 
The  coming  sounds  of  predatory  war :  680 

Again  her  voice  his  martial  service  claims, 
Oh !  best  of  heroes !  best  of  patriot  names  ! 
Thy  last  obedience  crowns  thy  precious  life. 
"  But  who  shall  lead  us  to  the  glorious  strife?" 
Exclaim  our  mourning  bands,  as  o'er  thy  bier  685 

They  bend,  and  bathe  it  with  a  frequent  tear. 
Fear  not — his  spirit,  still  the  soldier's  friend, 
Shall  in  your  front  on  some  brave  chief  descend; 
And  'mid  the  thunder  of  the  war  inspire 
In  every  breast  a  spark  of  heav'n's  own  fire.  690 

Thus  pass'd  his  useful  life,  by  foes  approv'd, 
By  nations  honour'd,  and  by  heav'n  belov'd. 
Yet  blushing  truth  must  tell  with  deep  regret, 
What  opposition  from  a  few  he  met; 

While  conscious  virtue,  on  his  visage  laught  695 

At  slander's  quiver,  and  defied  the  shaft.* 
No  vulgar  mark  appear'd  his  brilliant  fame — 
O'er  him  fell  slander  hung  with  foulest  aim. 


*  See  Letter  IV.  in  the  AppcnJ*. 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  183 

No  more  that  fiend  of  malice,  madd'ning  stands ; 

No  more  the  monster  lifts  briarean  hands,  700 

Shakes  all  his  shafts,  and,  steep'd  in  venom,  flings 

At  him  invulnerable,  poison'd  stings — 

Since  virtue's  sons  have  dash'd  those  shafts  accurst, 

And  spurn'd  the  monster  foaming  in  the  dust. 

When  late  he  bade  to  public  life  adieu,  70S 

Supernal  visions  opening  on  his  view ; 
Ye  heard  the  last  advice  your  guardian  gave, 
Ye  heard  his  words  when  bord'ring  on  the  grave  :— 
What  truths  experience  taught  you  from  his  tongue, 
When  in  your  ears  such  awful  warnings  rung?  710 

"  To  follow  virtue  never,  never  cease, 
Her  path  is  pleasant,  and  its  end  is  peace : 
Oh,  cultivate  blest  union,  but  on  this 
Relies  your  freedom,  independence,  bliss. 
WTio  sees  a  foreign  policy  prevail,  715 

Must  see  thy  promis'd  bliss,  Columbia!  fail; 
Must  see  thy  goodly  heritage,  that  day, 
The  prize  of  factions  or  of  war  the  prey." 
What  MORTAL  truths  more  sacred  spake  of  old, 
Jnspir'd  by  heav'n ! — The  words  are  grav'd  in  gold.  720 

Then  say  what  chief  has  nobler  trophies  won  ? 
What  godlike  patriot  deeds  more  glorious  done  ? 
Who  more  the  secret  foes  of  union  foil'd  ? 
For  independence  more  successful  toil'd  ? 

To  love  our  country  more  the  mind  prepar'd?  725 

'Gainst  foreign  influence  plac'd  a  stronger  guard? 
In  education*  form'd  a  wiser  plan, 
To  guard  inviolate  the  rights  of  man  ? 
Who  better  could  our  path  to  bliss  explore? 
And  whose  whole  life  has  honour'd  virtue  more?  730 

What  other  sage,  by  equal  ardour  warm'd, 
Such  signal  service  for  mankind  perform 'd? — 
Wide  as  the  world  shall  spread  his  deathless  fame, 
While  boundless  generations  bless  the  name, 
In  bright  example  shown.     Yc  good  I  ye  brave !  735 

Come  learn  with  him  to  triumph  o'er  the  grave. 


*  Se«  General  Washington's  will,  «  which  he  treats  of  a  national  university  and  a  na 
tional  education. 


184  ON  THE,  DEATH  OF    •> 

Cheer'd  by  that  lore  not  Greece  or  Rome  could  teach, 

That  lore  divine  beyond  our  reason's  reach; 

Bid  comfort  come  (ere  grief  prevail  too  long) 

And  exultation  join  the  seraph  song,  740 

While  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect  sing, 

"  Where  is  thy  vict'ry,  grave!  where,  death!  thy  sting?" 

On  him  death's  hovering  dart  could  strike  no  dread, 
Or  in  the  battle-field  or  sickness-bed : 

For  there  I  saw  him  far  too  great  for  fear,  745 

Still  greater  grow  as  danger  drew  more  near. 

How  fond  and  vain  th'  anticipation  sweet, 
Beneath  thy  friendly  shades  once  more  to  meet!* 
Oh,  best  of  friends!  still  had  I  hop'd  to  view 
Thy  face  once  more,  and  all  my  joys  renew.  750 

But  heav'n  those  joys,  too  perfect,  turn'd  to  pains, 
And  one  sad  duty  only  now  remains, 
That  I,  while  yet  thy  widow'd  mate  survive, 
That  comfort  which  I  want,  should  strive  to  give. 

Thou,  long  his  solace,  in  this  vale  of  tears,  755 

'    Wife  of  his  youth!  his  joy  twice  twenty  years! 
Though  all  this  empty  world  can  give  or  take, 
On  thy  lorn  heart  can  small  sensation  make ; 
Though  not  the  trophied  tomb  can  sooth  thy  grief, 
Or  well-earn'd  praise  can  give  thy  pangs  relief:  760 

Yet  see  whence  higher  consolations  flow, 
And  dry  at  length  th'  unceasing  tear  of  woe. 
Where  his  freed  spirit  tastes  the  bliss  above, 
Unfailing  feast,  beatitude  and  love ! 

Soon  shalt  thou  meet  him  on  th'  immortal  coast,  765 

And  all  thy  grief  in  ecstacy  be  lost. 

A  few  more  times  th'  expanded  moon  shall  rise, 
And  walk  in  brightness  up  the  eastern  skies ; 
With  varying  face  diffuse  her  waning  beams, 
And  cast  on  earth  her  chill  and  watery  gleams ;  770 

A  few  more  times  the  ruddy  sun  shall  lave, 
And  dip  his  dim  orb  in  the  western  wave ; 
Ere  yet  our  spirits  try  their  heav'n-ward  flight, 
From  these  dull  regions  of  surrounding  night ; 

*  8e«  Letters  IV.  and  V.  in  the  Appendix. 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  185 

Ere  for  the  present  race  the  scene  be  o'er,  775 

Death  sweep  the  stage  and  time  shall  be  no  more. 

What  though  ere  yet  a  few  short  years  revolve, 
This  earthly  tabernacle  must  dissolve— 
What  though  the  flesh,  abandon'd,  rest  in  dust- 
Sweet  is  the  memory  of  the  good  and  just.  78Q 
Then  shall  (unfetter 'd  from  the  pris'ning  tomb) 
This  mortal  immortality  assume; 
The  better  part  to  brighter  mansions  fly, 
Mansions,  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  sky  1 

Then  shall  we  rest  forlorn  beyond  relief,  785 

Dumb  in  despair  and  stupified  with  grief? 
To  drear  forgetfulness  consign  our  friends, 
And  lose  the  hope  "  that  being  never  ends?" 
That  prop  imperishable  prone  on  earth, 

The  spring  of  action  and  reward  of  worth !  790 

What!  shall  we  faint?  nor  give  to  faith  its  scope? 
Shall  we  remain  as  mourners  without  hope  ? 
And  shall  not  hope  celestial  sooth  these  sighs? 
Are  there  not  crowns  and  triumphs  in  the  skies? 
Think  ye,  now  fate  has  cut  the  vital  thread,  79$ 

Th'  immortal  Washington  is  wholly  dead? 
Though  cold  in  clay  the  mortal  members  lie, 
Mounts  not  th'  immortal  mind  to  worlds  on  high? 
Ev'n  that  lost  form  shall  rise  from  kindred  dust, 
Fair  in  the  renovation  of  the  just.  800 

From  conflagrated  orbs  in  atoms  hurl'd, 
Anon  shall  spring  a  renovated  world— 
That  world,  for  suff'ring  man,  of  bright  rewards, 
Thus  fir'd  the  song  of  heav'n-illumin'd  bards. 

u  Let  all  creation  fail,"  the  prophets  sung,  805 

While  holy  rapture  trembled  on  their  tongue ; 
"  Let  rocks  dissolve,  seas  roar,  and  mountains  nod, 
And  all  things  tremble  to  the  throne  of  God — 
Matter  and  motion  cease  from  nature's  course, 
Her  laws  controul'd  by  some  superior  force —  810 

To  final  ruin,  stars  and  comets  rush, 
Suns  suns  consume  and  systems  systems  crush— 
These  heav'ns  stretch'd  visible,  together  roll 
Inflam'd,  and  vanish  like  a  burning  scroll— 

2B 


186  ON  THE  DEATH  OF 

Though  death,  and  night,  and  chaos  rule  the  ball,  815 

Though  nature's  self  decay — -the  soul,  o'er  all, 

Survives  the  wrecks  of  matter  and  of  time, 

Shrin'd  in  immortal  youth  and  beauty's  prime  j 

High  o'er  the  bounds  of  this  diurnal  sphere, 

To  bloom  and  bask  in  heav'n's  eternal  year."  820 

Where  uncreated  light  no  sun  requires, 
And  other  splendours  beam  unborrow'd  fires ; 
On  our  lov'd  chief,  long  tried  in  virtue's  toils, 
With  bliss  ineffable  the  Godhead  smiles — 
In  the  full  blaze  of  day,  his  angel-frame  825 

For  ever  shines  another  and  the  same. 

Heroic  chiefs  !  who,  fighting  by  his  side, 
Liv'd  for  your  country,  for  your  country  died— 
If  ye  behold  us  from  the  holy  place, 

*^  Angels  and  spirits,  ministers  of  grace,"  830 

And  sainted  forms,  who,  erst  incarnate  strove, 
Through  thorny  paths  to  reach  the  bliss  above  1 
Protect  our  orphan'd  land,  propitious  still, 
To  virtue  guide  us  and  avert  from  ill ! 

Ancient  of  days  I  unutterable  name!  835 

At  whose  command  all  worlds  from  nothing  came; 
Beneath  whose  frown  the  nations  cease  to  be — 
Preserve,  as  thou  hast  made,  our  nation  free ! 
To  guard  from  harms  send  forth  thy  hallow'd  band! 
Be  thou  a  wall  of  fire  around  our  land,  840 

Above  the  frail  assaults  of  flesh  and  sense ! 
And  in  the  midst  our  glory  and  defence  ! 

Open,  ye  gates,  instinct  with  vital  force, 
That  earth  with  heaven  may  hold  high  intercourse ! 
Open,  ye  portals  of  eternal  day !  845 

Through  worlds  of  light  prepare  the  glorious  way ! 
Come,  sens  of  bliss,  in  bright'ning  clouds  reveal'd, 
Myriads  of  angels  throng  th'  aerial  field ! 
Come,  sainted  hosts !  and  from  thy  happier  home, 
Thou,  Washington !  our  better  angel !  come.  850 

And,  lo !  what  vision  bursts  upon  my  sight, 
Rob'd  in  th'  unclouded  majesty  of  light? 
'Tis  he — and  hark !  I  hear,  or  seem  to  hear, 
A  more  than  mortal  voice  invade  my  ear ; 


GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  187 

"  To  me,"  the  vision  cries,  "  to  speak  is  giv'n,  855 

Mortals !  attend  the  warning  voice  of  heav'n: 

Your  likeness  love  !  adore  the  pow'r  divine ! 

So  shall  your  days  be  blest,  your  end  like  mine! 

So  will  Omnipotence  your  freedom  guard, 

And  bliss  unbounded  be  your  great  reward!"  860 


OCCASIONAL  POEMS, 


OCCASIONAL  POEMS. 


ELEGY 

ON  THE 

BURNING  OF  F  AIRFIELD,  IN  CONNECTICUT. 

Written  in  1779,  on  the  Spot  where  that  Town  stood. 

JL  E  smoking  ruins,  marks  of  hostile  ire, 

Ye  ashes  warm,  which  drink  the  tears  that  flow, 
Ye  desolated  plains,  my  voice  inspire, 
And  give  soft  music  to  the  song  of  woe. 

How  pleasant,  Fairfield,  on  th'  enraptur'd  sight 
Rose  thy  tall  spires,  and  op'd  thy  social  halls! 

How  oft  my  bosom  beat  with  pure  delight, 

At  yonder  spot  where  stand  the  darken 'd  walls ! 

But  there  the  voice  of  mirth  resounds  no  more, 

A  silent  sadness  through  the  streets  prevails : 
The  distant  main  alone  is  heard  to  roar, 

And  hollow  chimnies  hum  with  sullen  gales- 
Save  where  scorch'd  elms  th'  untimely  foliage  shed, 

Which,  rustling,  hovers  round  the  faded  green- 
Save  where,  at  twilight,  mourners  frequent  tread, 

'Mid  recent  graves  o'er  desolation's  scene. 

How  chang'd  the  blissful  prospect,  when  compar'd, 
These  glooms  funereal,  with  thy  former  bloom, 

Thy  hospitable  rights  when  Tryon  shar'd, 
Long  ere  he  seal'd  thy  melancholy  doom ! 

That  impious  wretch,  with  coward  voice  decreed 
Defenceless  domes  and  hallo w'd  fanes  to  dust; 

Beheld,  with  sneering  smile,  the  wounded  bleed, 
And  spurr'd  his  bands  to  rapine,  blood  and  lust. 


192  ON  THE  BURNING  OF  FAIRFIELD. 

Vain  was  the  widow's,  vain  the  orphan's  cry, 
To  touch  his  feelings,  or  to  sooth  his  rage — 

Vain  the  fair  drop  that  roll'd  from  beauty's  eye, 
Vain  tiie  dumb  grief  of  supplicating  age. 

Could  Tryon  hope  to  quench  the  patriot  flame, 
Or  make  his  deeds  survive  in  glory's  page  ? 

Could  Britons  seek  of  savages  the  fame, 
Or  deem  it  conquest,  thus  the  war  to  wage  ? 

Yes,  Britons !  scorn  the  councils  of  the  skies, 
Extend  wide  havock,  spurn  th'  insulted  foes; 

Th'  insulted  foes  to  tenfold  vongeance  rise, 
Resistance  growing  as  the  danger  grows. 

Red  in  their  wounds,  and  pointing  to  the  plain, 
The  visionary  shapes  before  me  stand — 

The  thunder  bursts,  the  battle  burns  again, 
And  kindling  fires  encrimson  all  the  strand. 

Long  dusky  wreaths  of  smoke,  reluctant  driv'n, 
In  black 'ning  volumes  o'er  the  landscape  bend: 

Here  the  broad  splendour  blazes  high  to  heav'n, 
There  umber'd  streams  in  purple  pomp  ascend. 

In  fiery  eddies,  round  the  tott'ring  walls, 
Emitting  sparks,  the  lighter  fragments  fly ; 

With  frightful  crash  the  burning  mansion  falls, 
The  works  of  years  in  glowing  embers  lie, 

Tryon,  behold  thy  sanguine  flames  aspire, 
Clouds  ting'd  with  dyes  intolerable  bright; 

Behold,  well  pleas'd,  the  village  wrapt  in  fire  ; 
Let  one  wide  ruin  glut  thy  ravish 'd  sight  1 

Ere  fades  the  grateful  scene,  indulge  thine  eye, 
See  age  and  sickness,  tremulously  slow, 

Creep  from  the  flames — see  babes  in  torture  die, 
And  mothers  swoon  in  agonies  of  woe. 

Go,  gaze,  enraptur'd  with  the  mother's  tear, 
The  infant's  terror,  and  the  captive's  pain, 

Where  no  bold  bands  can  check  thy  curst  career; 
Mix  fire  with  blood  on  each  unguarded  plain  ! 


ELEGY  ON  LIEUTENANT  DE  HART.  198 

These  be  thy  triumphs!  this  thy  boasted  fame  I 
Daughters  of  mem'ry,  raise  the  deathless  songs ! 

Repeat  through  endless  years  his  hated  name, 
Embalm  his  crimes,  and  teach  the  world  our  wrongs. 


ELEGY 

ON 

LIEUTENANT  DE  HART,* 

Volunteer  Aid  to  General  Wayne. 

W  HEN  Autumn,  all  humid  and  drear, 

With  darkness  and  storms  in  his  train, 
Announcing  the  death  of  the  year, 

DespoiPd  of  its  verdure  the  plain: 
When  horror  congenial  prevail'd, 

Where  graves  are  with  fearfulness  trod, 
De  Hart  by  his  sister  was  wail'd; 

His  sister  thus  sigh'd  o'er  his  sod: 

«  Near  Hudson,  a  fort,  on  these  banks, 

"  Its  flag  of  defiance  unfurPd: 
"  He  led  to  the  storm  the  first  ranks ; 

"  On  them  iron  tempests  were  hurl'd. 
"  Transpierc'd  was  his  breast  with  a  ball— • 

"  His  breast  a  red  fountain  supply'd, 
"  Which,  gushing  m  waves  still  and  small, 

"  Distain'd  his  white  bosom  and  side. 

K  His  visage  was  ghastly  in  death, 

"  His  hair,  that  so  lavishly  curl'd, 
"  I  saw,  as  he  lay  on  the  heath, 

"  In  blood,  and  with  dew-drops  impearl'd. 
"  How  dumb  is  the  tongue  that  could  speak 

"  Whate'er  could  engage  and  delight! 
"  How  faded  the  rose  on  his  cheek ! 

"  Those  eyes,  how  envelop'd  in  night! 


This  young  warrior  was  killed  in  ;hc  attack,  on  the  block-house,  near  Fort  Lee,  1780. 
2C 


194          ELEGY  ON  LIEUTENANT  DE  HART 

"  Those  eyes,  that  illumin'd  each  soul, 

"  All  darken 'd  to  us  are  now  grown : 
"  In  far  other  orbits  they  roll, 

"  Like  stars  to  new  systems  when  gone. 
"  My  brother,  the  pride  of  the  plain, 

"  In  vain  did  the  graces  adorn ; 
"  His  blossom  unfolded  in  vain, 

"  To  die  like  the  blossom  of  morn. 

"  Oh  war  !  thou  hast  wasted  our  clime, 

"  And  tor'uir'd  my  bosom  with  sighs ; 
"  My  brother,  who  fell  ere  his  prime, 

"  For  ever  is  torn  from  my  eyes. 
"  To  me,  how  distracting  the  storm, 

"  That  blasted  the  youth  in  his  bloom! 
"  Alas !  was  so  finish'd  a  form 

"  Design'd  for  so  early  a  tomb  ? 

"  How  bright  were  the  prospects  that  shone ! 

"  Their  ruin  'tis  mine  to  deplore — 
"  Health,  beauty,  and  youth  were  his  own ; 

"  Health,  beauty,  and  youth  are  no  more.      ' 
"  No  blessings  of  nature  and  art, 

"  Nor  music  that  charm'd  in  the  song$ 
"  Nor  virtues  that  glow'd  in  the  heart, 

"  Dear  youth,  could  thy  moments  prolong ! 

u  Thrice  six  times  the  spring  had  renew 'd 

"  Its  youth  and  its  charms  for  the  boy : 
"  With  rapture  all  nature  he  view'd, 

"  For  nature  he  knew  to  enjoy. 
"  But  chiefly  his  country  could  charm : 

"  He  felt — 'twas  a  generous  heat — 
"  With  drums  and  the  trumpet's  alarm, 

"  His  pulses  in  consonance  beat. 

"  Ye  heroes,  to  whom  he  was  dear, 

"  Come  weep  o'er  this  sorrowful  urn, 
"  Come  ease  the  full  heart  with  a  tear — 

"  My  hero  will  never  return : 
"  He  died  in  the  dawn  of  applause, 

"  His  country  demanded  his  breath ; 
u  Go,  heroes,  defend  the  same  cause, 

"  Avenge,  with  your  country,  his  death." 


EPITAPH  ON  ALEXANDER  SCAMMEL.          195 

So  sung  on  the  top  of  the  rocks, 

The  virgin  in  sorrow  more  fair ; 
In  tears  her  blue  eyes ;  and  her  locks 

Of  auburn  flew  loose  in  the  air. 
I  heard,  as  I  pass'd  down  the  stream ; 

The  guards  of  the  foe  were  in  view:— 
To  enterprize  fir'd  by  the  theme, 

I  bade  the  sweet  mourner  adieu. 


AN 

EPITAPH. 

ALEXANDER  SCAMMEL, 
Adjutant-General  of  the  American  Armies, 

and 
Colonel  of  the  first  regiment  of  New-Hampshire, 

while 

he  commanded 
a  chosen  corps  of  light  infantry, 

at  the 
successful  siege  of  York-Town,  in  Virginia, 

was, 

in  the  gallant  performance  of  his  duty, 

as  field  officer  of  the  day, 

unfortunately  captured, 

and 

afterward  insidiously  wounded; 

of  which  wound  he  expired  at  Williamsburgh,  October,  1781. 
Anno 


Though  no  kind  angel  glanc'd  aside  the  ball, 
Nor  fed'ral  arms  pour'd  vengeance  for  his  fall: 
Brave  Scammel's  fame,  to  distant  regions  known, 
Shall  last  beyond  this  monumental  stone, 
Which  conqu'ring  armies  (from  their  toils  return'd) 
Rear'd  to  his  glory,  while  his  fate  they  mourn  'd. 


(    196    ) 
A 

LETTER 

TO 

A  YOUNG  LADY  IN  BOSTON, 

Dated  at  New-Haven,  April,  1780. 

INSPIR'D  with  hope  of  giving  pleasure, 
By  tale  disastrous,  told  in  measure ; 
I  mean,  dear  miss,  from  facts  diurnal, 
To  write  a  kind  of  sleighing  journal} 
And  minute  how  I  came  across,  back 
From  Pomfret  to  the  Sound  on  horseback. 

Suppose  (to  save  the  pain  of  parting) 
Your  friends  (the  trouble  past  of  starting) 
Far  on  their  way — the  muse  will  find  us — 
Our  hearts,  with  you,  as  far  behind  us: — 
No  wonder,  then,  we  soon  were  lost  on 
The  roads  that  go  direct  from  JJoston, 
And  came,  erroneous  whei*e  they  lead  in, 
From  Brush-Hill  down  to  Dedham -meeting ; 
From  whence  we  turn'd  our  steeds  to  Wrentham, 
And  drove  as  if  the  devil  sent  'em, 
Till  nine — nor  made  a  single  check  first — 
At  nine,  we  stopp'd  to  take  our  breakfast. 

Here  I  might  use  poetic  fiction, 
With  all  the  tropes  and  flow'rs  of  diction, 
To  change  (since  flatt'ry  half  our  trade  is) 
The  tavern-girls  to  sky-born  ladies: 
Or  give,  in  number  new  and  rare, 
With  Homer's  fire,  a  bill  of  fare ; 
Or  turn,  with  Ovid's  art  bewitching, 
To  rooms  of  state,  a  bar  or  kitchen : 
But  facts,  perhaps,  by  way  of  letter, 
May  shorter  be  express'd  and  better; 
As,  how  the  woman  first  denied  us 
A  breakfast ;  how  she  scowl'd  and  eyed  us ; 
And  how  we  slily  manag'd  matters, 
And  coax'd  the  dame,  and  squeez'd  the  daughters; 
Till  breakfast  serv'd,  with  kinder  looks, 
Left  no  pretext  to  kiss  the  cooks. 


LETTER  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

Our  meal  complete — 'ere  we  departed, 
We  paid  the  club — then  off  we  started — 
But  now  the  clouds  began  to  low'r, 
And  threat  of  rain  no  drizzly  show'r: 
It  dropp'd — we  came  to  Attleborough— 
The  mist  increas'd,  as  did  our  sorrow. 

I  cannot  choose,  with  Homer's  haste, 
To  say,  "  we  snatch'd  a  short  repast." 
We  dm'd,  and  spent  an  hour  in  reading 
The  news — from  hence,  through  show'rs  proceeding 
To  Providence — 'ere  it  grew  dark, 
Your  friend,  the  major,*  call'd  on  Clark, 
Deliver'd  your  commands  in  form, 
Then  came  to  Rice's  in  the  storm; 
For  now  the  storm,  that  long  impended, 
In  downright  cataracts  descended. 

Here  I  must  take,  for  episodes, 
Such  as  I  find — by  no  means  gods — 
For  here  some  half-score  strangers  met, 
I  never  saw  a  stranger  set : 
Our  pleasant  scene  may  soon  be  sketch'd, 
We  stretcli'd  and  yawn'd — then  yawn'd  and  stretch'd. 

With  doubts  (where  one  can  clear  the  mystery) 
I  would  not  puzzle  future  history: 
At  dawn  (the  fact  you  might  suppose) 
We  wak'd — got  up — put  on  our  clothes: 
And  then,  to  use  our  technics  arch, 
Again  took  up  our  line  of  march, 
Through  paths  of  snovv,  too  thin  and  soft, 
Our  horses  flounder 'd  deep  and  oft: 
Sev'n  miles  we  drove,  not  over  fast, 
And  reach'd  the  eighth — the  eighth  and  last — , 

Thou  muse,  oft  call'd  at  latest  shift, 
To  help  poor  bards  at  some  dead  lift; 
Now,  let  thy  succours  not  be  scanted, 
They  ne'er  can  be  more  sadly  wanted; 
Come  to  our  aid,  thou  muse  of  fire, 
And  drag  us  through  the  rhime  and  mire ! 

*  Major  D.  Putnam,  an  Aid-dc-Camp  to  Msjor-Oeneral  Putnam,  as  was  tbe  authtr. 


198  LETTER  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

No  vagrant  wights,  or  true  knights-errant, 
E'er  saw  such  perils,  I  dare  warrant ; 
Not  Homer's  hero  fac'd  such  dangers, 
By  land  or  sea,  with  friends  or  strangers; 
Not  Bunyan's  pilgrim  found  such  pond, 
Quite  badly  wet  in  Slough  Despond ; 
Nor  Satan,  in  his  various  way,  was 
So  plagued  (as  Milton  sings)  in  chaos; 
Nor  ev'n  the  son  of  old  Anchises 
Was  brought  to  such  a  fatal  crisis, — 
No  Charon  here,  we  found  to  ferry  us 
Over  a  villain  lake,  like  Erebus. 

The  dismal  vale  we  now  'gan  enter, 
And  down  we  plung'd  towards  the  centre- 
Above  mid-sides  the  horses  slump  in, 
Nor  stir  a  step,  except  by  jumping— 
Again  they  plunge — and  here  full  sadly 
For  our  poor  driver,  honest  Bradley, 
The  pole  snapp'd  short — then  quickly  falling, 
It  went  down,  with  the  horses,  all  in — 
The  worst  of  scrapes  to  make  the  best  on, 
And  raise  the  pole,  was  now  the  question — 
Bradley  (hence  nam'd  the  lion-hearted) 
His  utmost  skill  and  strength  exerted: 
While  poles  we  placed  across  the  slough, 
And  got  it  out — the  Lord  knows  how— , 
Then,  many  a  fruitless  effort  tried, 
We  reach'd,  half  drown'd,  the  other  side. 

The  muse  invok'd,  who  sat  on  bench, 
In  guise  most  like  a  mortal  wench, 
In  our  misfortunes  wet  her  wings, 
And  therefore  soars  not,  though  she  sings : 
That  muse,  no  doubt,  with  little  striving, 
Might  learn  the  true  sublime  of  diving ; 
Ev'n  now  she  tells,  how,  thick  and  faster, 
Disaster  crowded  on  disaster ; 
To  reach  a  house  how  hard  we  work'd, 
The  horses  mir'd,  and  tir'd,  and  cork'd, 
Till  neighbours  came,  with  kind  assistance, 
And  drew  the  sleigh,  by  hand,  some  distance. 


LETTER  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  199 

As  when  a  sailor,  long  the  sport 
Of  winds  and  waves,  arrives  in  port, 
He  joys,  although  the  vessel's  stranded, 
To  find  himself  alive  and  landed: 
Not  less  our  glee,  nor  less  our  courage, 
To  find  a  cot,  where  we  found  porridge ; 
And  where  three  days  ourselves  we  found, 
(To  try  our  patience)  weather  bound. 

Each  plan  to  move  in  council  stated, 
Was  pass'd — rejected — re-debated. 

Here  one  might  fall  to  moralizing 
Upon  some  theme  which  most  seem  wise  in : 
Ye,  who  for  human  nature  stickle, 
Come  learn  that  man  is  frail  and  fickle, 
The  sport,  or  bubble  altogether, 
Of  fire  and  water,  wind  and  weather  ! 

It  now  grew  cold — the  path  was  frozen, 
To  part  the  hour  of  midnight  chosen— 
Our  matters  all,  at  length,  adjusted, 
Th'  event  to  Providence  we  trusted. 

The  rubs  and  jostlings  of  that  night, 
Were  more  by  half  than  I  shall  write: 
Can  things  like  these  in  rhime  be  written! 
How  by  a  dog  my  friend  was  bitten ; 
How  Bradley  tore  a  piece  of  skin, 
Like  fiafier  dollar,  from  his  shin ; 
And  how  your  bard,  'ere  he  was  seated, 
His  better  finger  dislocated; 
How  h<  aviiy  the  horses  drew 
The  sleigh ;  and  how  they  dragg'd  it  through 
A  mire — from  whence  (remains  no  doubt) 
The  very  bottom  had  dropp'd  out; 
And  lastly,  how,  to  make  us  fret, 
The  sleigh  was  fairly  overset; 
Beset  with  ills,  we  rode  by  moon-light, 
Till  that  was  gone — and  then  'twas  soon  light. 

The  sun,  to  our  new  world  now  present, 
Brought  on  the  day  benign  and  pleasant; 


200  LETTER  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

The  day,  by  milder  fates  attended, 
Our  plagues  at  Gen'ral  Putnam's  ended. 
That  chief,  though  ill,  receiv'd  our  party 
With  joy,  and  gave  us  welcome  hearty : 
The  good  old  man,  of  death  not  fearful, 
Retain'd  his  mind  and  temper  cheerful ; 
Retain 'd  (with  palsey  sorely  smitten) 
His  love  of  country,  pique  for  Britain: 
He  told  of  many  a  deed  and  skirmish, 
That  basis  for  romance  might  furnish ; 
The  story  of  his  wars  and  woes 
Which  I  shall  write  in  humble  prose, 
Should  heav'n  (that  fondest  schemes  can  mar) 
Protract  my  years  beyond  this  war. 

Thus  end  the  toil  and  picture  frightful 
Of  sleighing— oft  a  sport  delightful — 
A  sfiort,  which  all  our  lads  and  lasses 
Agree  each  other  sport  surpasses, 
When,  crossing  bridges  in  that  vehicle, 
They  taste  of  kisses  sweet  as  treacle. 

To  Hartford  next,  with  whip  and  spur,  hence 
I  came — nor  met  one  ill  occurrence — 
There  Wadsiuorth 's  hospitable  dome 
Receiv'd  me :  'twas  a  second  home. 

Some  days  elaps'd,  I  jogg'd  quite  brave  on, 
And  found  my  Trumbull  at  New-Haven ; 
Than  whom,  more  humour  never  man  did 
Possess — nor  lives  a  soul  more  candid — 
But  who,  unsung,  would  know  hereafter, 
The  repartees,  and  peals  of  laughter, 
Or  how  much  glee  those  laughters  yield  one, 
Maugre  the  system  Chesterfieldian ! 
Barlow  I  saw,  and  here  began 
My  friendship  for  that  spotless  man ; 
Whom,  though  the  world  does  not  yet  know  it, 
Great  nature  form'd  her  loftiest  poet. 
But  Dvjight  was  absent  at  North-Hampton, 
That  bard  sublime,  and  virtue's  champion; 
To  whom  the  charms  of  verse  belong, 
The  father  of  our  epic  song  ! 


LETTER  TO  A  YOUNG  LADY.  201 

My  morn  of  life  here  haply  past, 
With  youths  of  genius,  science,  taste: 
But  'mid  the  roar  of  drums  and  guns, 
Where  meet  again  the  muse's  sons? 
The  mental  banquet  must  they  quit, 
The  feast  of  reason  and  of  wit; 
For  ever  lost,  in  civil  strife, 
That  solace  sweet  of  human  life! 

The  cannon's  distant  thunders  ring, 
And  wake  to  deeds  of  death  the  spring : 
Far  other  sounds  once  touch 'd  my  ear, 
And  usher'd  in  the  flbw'ry  year  : 
But,  now,  adieu  the  tuneful  trainy 
The  warblings  of  my  native  plain ; 
Adieu  the  scenes  that  charm'd  my  viewj 
And  thou,  fair  maid,  again  adieu ! 
Farewell  the  bow'rs  and  conscious  shades  I— 
My  country's  cause  my  soul  invades — 
Yes,  rous'd  by  sense  of  country's  wrongs, 
I  give  the  wind  my  idle  songs: 
No  vacant  hour  for  rhyme  succeeds, 
I  go  where'er  the  battle  bleeds : 
To-morrow — (brief  then  be  my  story)—* 
I  go  to  WASHINGTON  and  GLORY; 
His  Aid-de-Camp — in  acts  when  tried — 
Resolv'd  (whatever  fates  betide) 
My  conduct,  till  my  final  breath, 
Shall  not  disgrace  my  life  or  death. 


(     203    ) 

AN 

EPITHALAMIUM. 


1  WAS  at  the  wedding-feast,  for  Celia  won, 

By  Cymon's  coxcomb  son! 

Aloft  in  dwarfish  state 

The  foplike  bridegroom  sat, 

And  made  a  deal  of  fun  1 
His  gallant  peers  around  were  plac'd, 
Their  hair  all  curl'd  and  dress'd  in  newest  taste : 
(Of  powder  what  prodigious  waste !) 
The  simp'ring  Celia  by  his  side, 
His  lace  and  gewgaws  fondly  ey'd, 
And  swell'd  her  little  heart  with  pride* 
Proper,  proper,  proper  pair! 

None  but  a  rake, 

None  but  a  rake 
Such  pains  would  take  to  gain  a  fickle  fair. 

II. 
Mungo  was  there,  and  did  well, 

And  led  the  cap 'ring  choir ; 
With  fumbling  fingers  twang'd  the  fiddle : 
The  notes  awake  the  am'rous  fire, 
And  drinking  joys  inspire. 

The  song  began  of  beaux, 

And  whence  the  order  rose ; 
(Such  wond'rous  things  a  fiddler  knows) 
A  monkey's  grinning  form  in  utmost  vigour, 
Bely'd  a  macaroni's  noble  figure; 
When  he  to  fair  Coquetta  prest, 
A  while  he  sought  her  snowy  breast ; 
Then  round  her  slender  waist  he  curl'd, 
And  stamp'd  an  image  of  himself,  a  coxcomb  of  the  world. 
A  present  fop !  they  shout  around ; 
A  present  fop !  the  vaulted  roofs  rebounds 

With  ravish'd  ears, 

The  fopling  hears; 

Assumes  the  shape, 

Looks  like  an  ape, 
And  grins,  and  laughs,  and  sneers. 


(    203    ) 
ALEXANDER'S   FEAST, 

OH.     THE 

POWER  OF  MUSIC: 

An  Ode  in  honour  of  St.  Cecilia's  Day, 

By  Mr.  Dryden. 

I. 

L  WAS  at  the  royal  feast  for  Persia  woii| 

By  Philip's  warlike  son: 

Aloft  in  awful  state 

The  godlike  hero  sat 

On  his  imperial  throne. 
His  valiant  peers  were  plac'd  around, 
Their  brows  with  roses  and  with  myrtles  bound; 
(So  should  desert  in  arms  be  crown'd,) 
The  lovely  Thais  by  his  side, 
Sat  like  a  blooming  eastern  bride, 
In  flow'r  of  youth  and  beauty's  pride. 
Happy,  happy,  happy  pair ! 

None  but  the  brave, 

None  but  the  brave, 
None  but  the  brave  deserves  the  fair. 

II. 

Timotheus  plac'd  on  high, 
Amid  the  tuneful  choir, 
With  flying  fingers  touch'd  the  lyre ; 
The  trembling  notes  ascend  the  sky, 
And  heav'nly  joys  inspire. 

The  song  began  from  Jove, 

Who  left  his  blissful  seat  above ; 
(Such  is  the  pow'r  of  mighty  love) 
A  dragon's  fiery  form  bely'd  the  god; 
Sublime  on  radiant  spires  he  rode, 
When  he  to  fair  Olympia  prest, 
A  while  he  sought  her  snowy  breast ; 
Then  round  her  slender  waist  he  curl'd, 
And  stamp'd  an  image  of  himself,  a  sov'reign  of  the  world. 
A  present  deity !  they  shout  around ; 
A  present  deity !  the  vaulted  roofs  rebound: 

With  ravish'd  ears 

The  monarch  hears ; 

Assumes  the  god, 

Affects  to  nod, 
And  seems  to  shake  the  spheres. 


•204  AN  EPITHALAMIUM. 

III. 

The  praise  of  Bacchus  then  the  thirsty  fiddler  sung ; 
Of  Bacchus,  ever  plump  and  ever  young : 
The  jolly  god  to  wedding  comes ; 
Sound  the  trumpets,  beat  the  drums : 

Flush 'd  with  a  purple  nose, 

His  pimpled  face  he  shows. 

Now  give  the  boy  a  dram.     He  comes,  he  comes ! 
Bacchus !  plump  and  merry  younker, 
Makes  the  wedding-folks  get  drunker; 
Bacchus  taught  to  toast  the  lasses ; 
Tippling  ev'ry  joy  surpasses, 

Rich  the  treasure, 

Sweet  the  pleasure, 
After  drinking  to  break  glasses. 
IV, 

Sooth'd  with  the  sound,  the  fop  grew  vain, 
Talk'd  all  his  courtship  o'er  again, 

And  thrice  he  kiss'd  the  girls  all  round,  and  thrice  they  fled  amain. 
The  fiddler  saw  the  mischief  rise, 
His  yawning  mouth,  his  maudlin  eyes; 
And  while  he  sense  and  song  defied, 
Chang'd  his  hand,  and  strok'd  the  bride. 

He  chose  a  doleful  ditty, 

To  work  him  up  to  pity : 
He  sung  poor  Damon's  cruel  wrongs, 

By  too  severe  a  fate,  • 

Banish'd,  banish'd,  banish'd,  banish'd, 

Banish'd  for  his  small  estate, 
And  writing  mournful  songs : 

Deserted,  at  his  utmost  need, 

By  all  Apollo's  tuneful  breed ; 
On  an  old  feather-bed  he  lies, 
Nor  dullness  self  will  close  his  eyes: 
With  stupid  stare  the  joyless  fopling  sat, 
Revolving  in  his  alter'd  soul, 

The  various  turns  of  fate  and  fun; 
And  now  and  then  a  drink  he  stole, 

And  streams  began  to  run. 

V. 

The  mighty  fiddler  smil'd  to  see 
That  love  was  in  the  next  degree : 
To  touch  that  string  was  little  labour, 
For  love  to  pity  is  next  neighbour. 


ALEXANDER'S  FEAST.  205 

III. 

The  praise  of  Bacchus  then  the  sweet  musician  sung : 
Of  Bacchus,  ever  fair  and  ever  young : 
The  jolly  god  in  triumph  comes ; 
Sound  the  trumpets,  beat  the  drums : 

Flush'd  with  a  purple  grace, 

He  shows  his  honest  face. 

Now  give  the  hautboys  breath.     He  comes,  he  comes! 
Bacchus  I  ever  fair  and  young, 
Drinking  joys  did  first  ordain; 

Bacchus'  blessings  are  a  treasure ; 
Drinking  is  the  soldier's  pleasure: 

Rich  the  treasure, 

Sweet  the  pleasure, 
Sweet  is  pleasure  after  pain. 

IV. 

Sooth'd  with  the  sound,  the  king  grew  vain, 
Fought  all  his  battles  o'er  again, 

And  thrice  he  routed  all  his  foes,  and  thrice  he  slew  the  slain. 
The  master  saw  the  madness  rise, 
His  glowing  cheeks,  his  ardent  eyes; 
And  while  he  heav'n  and  earth  defy'd, 
Chang'd  his  hand,  and  check'd  his  pride. 

He  chose  a  mournful  muse, 

Soft  pity  to  infuse ; 
He  sung  Darius,  great  and  good  I 

By  too  severe  a  fate, 
Fallen,  fallen,  fallen,  fallen, 

Fallen  from  his  high  estate, 
And  welt'ring  in  his  blood: 

Deserted  at  his  utmost  need, 

By  those  his  former  bounty  fedj 
On  the  bare  earth  expos'd  he  lies, 
Without  a  friend  to  close  his  eyes,. 
With  downcast  looks  the  joyless  victor  sat, 
Revolving  in  his  alter'd  soul, 

The  various  turns  of  chance  below ; 
And  now  and  then  a  sigh  he  stole, 

And  tears  began  to  flow. 

V. 

The  mighty  master  smil'd  to  see 
That  love  was  in  the  next  degree; 
'Twas  but  a  kindred  sound  to  move, 
For  pity  melts  the  mind  to  love. 


206  AN  EPITHALAMIUM. 

Softly  sweet  he  tun'd  his  fiddle, 
Soon  it  sounded,  tiddle,  diddle. 
Trade,  he  sung,  is  toil  and  trouble ; 
Money  but  an  empty  bubble  ; 
Constant  hurry,  still  beginning, 

Constant  cheating,  never  ending ; 
If  a  fortune's  worth  thy  winning, 

Think,  oh  think  it  worth  thy  spending  ! 
Lovely  Celia  sits  beside  thee ; 
Drink  about,  and  luck  betide  thee. 
The  many  rend  the  bowls  with  loud  applause; 
So  love  was  crown'd,  but  liquor  won  the  cause. 
The  fop,  grown  addled  in  his  noddle, 

Gaz'd  on  his  brid«, 
And  then  his  bottle, 

And  sigh'd  and  look'd,  sigh'd  and  look'd, 
Sigh'd  and  look'd,  and  look'd  and  sigh'd. 
At  length  for  love,  and  drinking  more  unable, 
The  tipsy  bridegroom  fell  beneath  the  table. 

VI. 

Now  tug  the  wooden  lyre  again : 
A  harder  yet,  and  yet  a  harder  strain. 
Let  scolding  break  his  sleep  asunder, 
And  start  him,  like  a  rattling  peal  of  thunder. 
Hark,  hark,  Xantippe's  fable 
Has  rais'd  up  his  head, 
As  awak'd  from  the  dead, 
And  he  peeps  out  from  under  the  table. 
Revenge,  revenge,  dark  Mungo  cries, 
See  the  cuckolds  arise ! 
See  the  horns  that  they  rear, 
How  they  look  in  their  hair, 
And  the  tears  that  roll  down  from  their  eyes ! 
Behold  the  hen-peck'd  band, 
In  ghostly  terrors  stand  I 

These  are  husbands  whose  couches  have  met  with  a  stain ; 
Whose  wives  still  remain, 
Unconcern'd  with  their  pain : 
Give  the  vengeance  due, 
To  the  cuckold  crew. 
Behold  how  they  toss  their  foreheads  up  higher, 

How  they  point  to  the  bed-rooms  around, 
And  warn  ev'ry  pair  to  retire: 
The  cronies  applaud  with  a  Bacchanal  sound: 


ALEXANDER'S  FEAST,  20f 

Softly  sweet,  in  Lydian  measures, 
Soon  he  sooth'd  his  soul  to  pleasures. 
War,  he  sung,  is  toil  and  trouble; 
Honour  but  an  empty  bubble ; 
Never  ending,  still  beginning, 

Fighting  still,  and  still  destroying; 
If  the  world  be  worth  thy  winning, 

Think,  O  think  it  worth  enjoying! 
Lovely  Thais  sits  beside  thee ; 
Take  the  good  the  gods  provide  thee. 
The  many  rend  the  skies  with  loud  applause^ 
So  love  was  crown'd,  but  music  won  the  cause. 
The  prince,  unable  to  conceal  his  pain, 

Gaz'd  on  his  fair, 
Who  caus'd  his  care, 
And  sigh'd  and  look'd,  sigh'd  and  look'd, 
Sigh'd  and  look'd,  and  sigh'd  again. 
At  length,  with  love  and  wine  at  once  opprest, 
The  vanquish'd  victor  sunk  upon  her  breast. 

VI. 

Now  strike  the  golden  lyre  again, 
A  louder  yet,  and  yet  a  louder  strain* 
Break  his  bands  of  sleep  asunder, 
And  rouse  him,  like  a  rattling  peal  of  thunder. 
Hark,  hark  the  horrid  sound 
Has  rais'd  up  his  head, 
As  awak'd  from  the  dead, 
And  amaz'd  he  stares  around. 
Revenge,  revenge !  Timotheus  cries, 
See  the  furies  arise ! 
See  the  snakes  that  they  rear, 
How  they  hiss  in  their  hair ! 
And  the  sparkles  that  flash  from  their  eyes ! 
Behold  a  ghostly  band, 
Each  a  torch  in  his  hand! 

These  are  Grecian  ghosts  that  in  battle  were  slain, 
Whose  bodies  remain 
Unburied  on  the  plain : 
Give  the  vengeance  due, 
To  the  valiant  crew. 
Behold  how  they  toss  their  torches  on  high, 

How  they  point  to  the  Persian  abodes, 
And  glittering  temples  of  their  hostile  gods. 
The  princes  applaud  with  a  furious  joy, 


208  AN  EPITHALAMIUM. 

And  each  in  a  rapture  laid  hold  on  his  Helen : 

The  Way  fair  Celia  led, 

To  light  the  bucks  to  bed ; 
The  rest  is  scarce  worth  telling. 
VII. 

Thus  long  ago, 

Ere  younger  Cymon's  horns  began  to  grow. 
While  Celia's  tongue  lay  still, 
Dark  Mungo  show'd  prodigious  skill, 
Both  as  a  singer, 

And  when  he  touch'd  his  lyre  with  heavy  thumb  and  fingev. 
But  when  the  shrill-voic'd  Celia  came, 
And  tun 'd  to  rage  her  vocal  frame; 
The  gifted  scold  from  her  unborrow'd  store, 
Enlarg'd  the  former  narrow  bounds, 
And  added  length  to  jarring  sounds 
With  nature's  mother -wit,  and  screams  unknown  before. 
Let  Mungo,  if  he's  able, 

Do  more — or  yield  the  wreath — 
He  stretch 'd  a  fop  beneath  the  table, 
*     She  scolded  him  to  death. 


ALEXANDER'S  FEAST.  209 

And  the  king  seiz'd  a  flambeau  with  zeal  to  destroy; 
Thais  led  the  way, 
To  light  him  to  his  prey, 
And  like  another  Helen,  fir'd  another  Troy. 

VII. 

Thus  long  ago-, 

Ere  heaving  bellows  learn'd  to  blow, 
While  organs  yet  were  mute ; 
Timotheus  with  his  breathing  flute, 
And  sounding  lyre, 

Could  swell  the  soul  to  rage,  or  kindle  soft  desire. 
But  when  divine  Cecilia  came, 
Inventress  of  the  vocal  frame, 
The  sweet  enthusiast,  from  her  sacred  store, 
Enlarg'd  the  former  narrow  bounds, 
And  added  length  to  solemn  sounds, 
With  nature's  mother-wit,  and  arts  unknown  before. 
Let  old  Timotheus  yield  the  prize, 

Or  both  divide  the  crown ; 
He  rais'd  a  mortal  to  the  skies, 

She  drew  an  angel  down. 


(     210    ) 

• 


AN 

IMPROMPTU.* 

jVlAY  you,  fraught  with  ev'ry  grace, 
All  the  charms  of  mind  and  face, 
Ripen  fair  in  wisdom's  beam ; 
Thine  the  bliss  that  poets  dream. 
Happier  still  thy  prospects  shine, 
And  each  wish  fulfill'd  be  thine ! 

Riches  make  them  wings  and  fly  ; 
Envy  blasts  the  buds  of  joy ; 
Deadly  pangs  may  youth  invade, 
When  the  rosy  cheek  must  fade  ; 
Only  virtue  can  impart  -\ 

Our  defence — it  soothes  the  heart,         > 
Death  disarms,  or  blunts  his  dart.        J 


AM 

ODE. 

ADDRESSED  TO  LAURA, 

V-/H,  lovely  Laura  !  may  a  youth, 
Inspir'd  by  beauty,  urg'd  by  truth, 

Disclose  the  heart's  alarms, 
The  fire  in  youthful  blood  that  glows, 
Th'  impassion'd  pang  on  love  that  grows, 

And  dare  to  sing  thy  charms  ! 

Enough  with  war  my  lay  has  rung ; 
A  softer  theme  awakes  my  tongue ; 

'Tis  beauty's  force  divine  ; 
Can  I  resist  that  air,  that  grace, 
The  charms  of  motion,  figure,  face  ? 

For  ev'ry  charm  is  thine. 


*  Addressed  to  a  young  lady  about  to  embark  for  Europe,  who  desired  to  have  some 
marmscript  verses  written  by  the  author.    Her  name  will  be  discovered  in  them. 


AN  EPISTLE  TO  DR.  DWIGHT.  211 

Of  health,  of  youth,  th'  expanding  flush, 
Of  virgin  fear  the  flying  blush, 

Distain  thy  lily  cheek : 
The  bee  such  nectar  never  sips, 
As  yields  the  rose-bud  of  thy  lips, 

Thy  lips  that  sweetly  speak. 

Tis  thine  the  heaviest  heart  to  cheer, 
Those  accents  caught  with  eager  ear, 

So  musically  roll : 

While  swells  the  breast,  the  snow-white  skin 
Scarce  hides  the  secret  thoughts  within, 

Nor  needs  disguise  that  soul. 

Where  down  thy  waist,  and  o'er  thy  breast, 
In  light  brown  ringlets  neatly  drest, 

Devolves  thy  beauteous  hair : 
Eager  I  gaze — and,  gazing,  dream 
Of  halcyon  days ;  while  on  me  beam 

Those  blue-eyes,  mild  and  fair. 

Unblam'd,  oh  let  me  gaze  and  gaze, 
While  love-sick  fancy  fondly  strays, 

And  feasts  on  many  a  kiss ; — • 
For  us  let  tides  of  rapture  roll, 
Thus  intermingling  soul  with  soul. 

In  ecstacies  of  bliss  I 


AN 

EPISTLE 

TO 

DR.  DWIGHT. 

On  board  the  Courier  de  1'Europa,  July  30,  1784. 

f  ROM  the  wide  wat'ry  waste,  where  nought  but  skies 

And  mingling  waves  salute  the  aching  eyes ; 

Where  the  same  moving  circle  bounds  the  view, 

And  paints  with  vap'ry  tints  the  billows  blue ; 

To  thee,  my  early  friend !  to  thee,  dear  Dwight ! 

Fond  recollection  turns,  while  thus  I  write  j 


312  AN  EPISTLE  TO  DR.  DWIGHT. 

While  I  reflect,  no  change  of  time  or  place, 
Th'  impressions  of  our  friendship  can  efface — 
Nor  peace  or  war — though  chang'd  for  us  the  scene—* 
Though  mountains  rise,  or  oceans  roll  between — 
Too  deep  that  sacred  passion  was  imprest 
On  my  young  heart — too  deep  it  mark'd  your  breast— 
Your  breast,  which  asks  the  feelings  of  your  friend. 
What  chance  betides  him,  or  what  toils  attend? 
Then  hear  the  muse,  in  sea-born  numbers  tell 
In  mind  how  cheerful,  and  in  health  how  well ; 
And  ev'n  that  muse  will  deign  to  let  you  know. 
What  things  concur  to  make  and  keep  him  so.— 

We  go,  protected  by  supernal  care, 
With  cloudless  skies,  and  suns  serenely  fair ; 
While  o'er  th'  unruffled  main  the  gentle  gale 
Consenting  breathes,  and  fills  each  swelling  sail ; 
Conscious  of  safety  in  the  self-same  hand, 
Which  guides  us  on  the  ocean  or  the  land* 

Of  thee,  fair  bark !  the  muse  prophetic  sings, 
"  Europe's  sivift  Messenger.'  expand  thy  wings, 
"  Rear  thy  tall  masts,  extend  thine  ample  arms, 
"  Catch  the  light  breeze,  nor  dread  impending  harms-r- 
"  Full  oft  shalt  thou — if  aught  the  muse  avails — 
(f  Wing  the  broad  deep  with  such  delightful  gales;, 
"  Full  oft  to  either  world  announce  glad  news, 
*'  Of  allied  realms  promote  the  friendly  views; 
"  So  shall  each  distant  age  assert  thy  claim, 
"  And  JSurofie's  Messenger  be  known  to  fame !" 

What  though  this  plain,  so  uniform  and  vast, 
inimitably  spreads  its  dreary  waste ; 
What  though  no  isles,  nor  vales,  nor  hills,  nor  groves, 
Meet  the  tir'd  eye  that  round  th'  horizon  roves; 
Yet,  still  collected  in  a  narrow  bound, 
Ten  thousand  little  pleasures  may  be  found. — 

Here  we  enjoy  accommodations  good, 
With  pleasant  liquors,  and  well-flavour'd  food ; 
Meats  nicely  fatten'd  in  Columbian  fields, 
And  luscious  wines,  that  Gallia's  vintage  yields, 
On  Avhich  you  bards  ('twas  so  in  former  days) 
Might  feast  your  wit,  and  lavish  all  your  praise. 


AN  EPISTLE  TO  DR.  DWIGHT. 

Within  our  ship,  well-furnish'd,  roomy,  clean, 
Come  see  the  uses  of  each  diff'rent  scene— r 
Tar  in  the  prow,  for  culinary  use, 
Fires,  not  poetic,  much  good  cheer  produce ; 
The  ovens  there  our  daily  bread  afford, 
And  thence  the  viands  load  our  plenteous  board. 

See  various  landscapes  shade  our  dining  hall, 
Where  mimic  nature  wantons  round  the  wall; 
There  no  vain  pomp  appears — there  all  is  neat—. 
And  there  cool  zephyrs,  fanning  as  we  eat, 
Avert  the  fervours  of  the  noon-tide  ray, 
And  give  the  mildness  of  the  vernal  day. 

See  the  great  cabin  nigh,  its  doors  unfold, 
Show  fleeting  forms  from  mirrors  fix'd  in  gold! 
O'er  painted  ceilings  brighter  prospects  rise, 
And  rural  scenes  again  delight  our  eyes — 
There  oft  from  converse  or  from  social  sports, 
We  drink  delight  less  dash'd  than  that  of  courts. 

But  when  more  sober  cares  the  hour  requires, 
Each  to  his  cell  of  solitude  retires ; 
His  bed — his  books — his  paper,  pen  and  ink — 
Present  the  choice,  > to  rest,  to  read,  or  think. 

Yet  what  would  all  avail  to  prompt  the  smile, 
Cheer  the  sad  breast,  or  the  dull  hour  beguile ; 
If  well-bred  passengers,  discreet  and  free, 
Were  not  at  hand  to  mix  in  social  glee? 
Such  my  companions — such  the  muse  shall  tell, 
Him  first,  whom  once  you  knew  in  war  full  well, 
Our  Polish  friend,*  whose  name  still  sounds  so  hard, 
To  make  it  rhyme  would  puzzle  any  bai-d; 
That  youth,  whose  bays  and  laurels  early  crown'd, 
For  virtue,  science,  ai'ts  and  arms  renown'dl 
Next  him,  behold,  to  grace  our  wat'ry  scene, 
An  honest  Germanf  lifts  his  gen'rous  mein ; 
Him  Carolina  sends  to  Europe's  shore, 
Canals  and  inland  waters  to  explore ; 
From  thence  return 'd,  she  hopes  to  see  her  tide, 
In  commerce  rich,  through  ampler  channels  glide. 

*  General  Koscmszko.  t  Colonel  Senf. 


214  AN  EPISTLE  TO  DR.  DWIGHT. 

Next  comeS  the  bleak  Quebec's  well-natur'd  son : 
And  last  our  naval  chief,  the  friend  of  fun, 
Whose  plain,  frank  manners,  form'd  on  fickle  seas, 
Are  cheerful  still,  and  always  aim  to  please : 
Nor  less  the  other  chiefs  their  zeal  display, 
To  make  us  happy  as  themselves  are  gay. 

Sever'd  from  all  society  but  this, 
Half  way  from  either  world  we  plough  th'  abyss ; 
Save  the  small  sea-bird,  and  the  fish  that  flies 
On  yon  blue  waves,  no  object  meets  my  eyes. — 
Nor  has  th'  insidious  hook,  with  lures,  beguil'd 
Of  peopled  ocean  scarce  a  single  child — 
Yet  luckless  Dolphin,  erst  to  Arion*  true, 
Nought  could  avail  thy  beauteous,  transient  hue, 
As  o'er  the  deck,  in  dying  pang  you  roll'd, 
Wrapp'd  in  gay  rainbows  and  pellucid  gold. 

Now  see  that  wand'rer  bird,  fatigu'd  with  flight 
O'er  many  a  wat'ry  league,  is  forc'd  to  light 
High  on  the  mast — the  bird  our  seamen  take, 
Though  scar'd,  too  tir'd  its  refuge  to  forsake : 
Fear  not  sweet  bird,  nor  judge  our  motives  ill, 
No  barb'rous  man  now  means  thy  blood  to  spill, 
Or  hold  thee  cag'd — soon  as  we  reach  the  shore 
Free  shalt  thou  fly,  and  gaily  sing  and  soar ! 

Another  grateful  sight  now  cheers  the  eye, 
At  first  a  snow-white  spot  in  yon  clear  sky ; 
Then  through  the  optic  tube  a  ship  appears, 
And  now  distinct  athwart  the  billows  veers: 
Daughter  of  ocean,  made  to  bless  mankind! 
Go,  range  wide  waters  on  the  wings  of  wind — • 
With  friendly  intercourse  far  climes  explore, 
Their  produce  barter,  and  increase  their  store- 
Ne'er  saw  my  eyes  so  fair  a  pageant  swim, 
As  thou  appear'st,  in  all  thy  gallant  trim ! 

Amus'd  with  trivial  things,  reclin'd  at  ease, 
While  the  swift  bark  divides  the  summer  seas, 


*  Ille  sedet,  citharamque  tenet,  pretiumque  vdirndi 
Canut,  et  aetjuoreas  carmine  mulcet  aouss.  Ovid.  Fast. 


EPISTLE  FROM  DR.  DWIGHT.  315 

Your  bard  (for  past  neglects  to  make  amends) 
Now  writes  to  you — anon  to  other  friends. — 

Anon  the  scene,  in  Europe's  polish'd  climes, 
Will  give  new  themes  for  philosophic  rhymes, 
Ope  broader  fields  for  reason  to  explore, 
Improvements  vast  of  scientific  lore  I 

Through  nations  blest  with  peace,  but  strong  in  arms, 
Refin'd  in  arts,  and  apt  for  social  charms, 
Your  friend  will  stray,  and  strive  with  studious  care 
To  mark  whate'er  is  useful,  great,  or  rare ; 
Search  the  small  shades  of  manners  in  their  lives, 
What  policy  prevails,  how  commerce  thrives ; 
How  morals  form  of  happiness  the  base, 
How  others  differ  from  Columbia's  race ; 
And,  gleaning  knowledge  from  the  realms  he  rov'd, 
Bring  home  a  pati'iot  heart,  enlarg'd,  improv'd. 


EPISTLE 

FROM 

DR.  DWIGHT  TO  COL.  HUMPHREYS. 

Greer-field,  178.v. 

JL  ROM  realms,  where  nature  sports  in  youthful  prime, 
Where  Hesper  lingers  o'er  his  darling  clime, 
Where  sunny  genius  lights  his  sacred  flame, 
Where  rising  science  casts  her  morning  beam, 
Where  empire's  final  throne  in  pomp  ascends, 
Where  pilgrim  freedom  finds  her  vanish 'd  friends, 
The  world  renews,  and  man  from  eastern  fires, 
Phoenix  divine,  again  to  heaven  aspires, 
Health  to  my  friend  this  happy  verse  conveys, 
His  fond  attendant  o'er  th'  Atlantic  seas. 

Health  to  my  friend  let  every  wish  prolong ; 
Be  this  the  burden  of  each  artless  song  ; 
This  in  the  prayer  of  every  morn  arise ; 
Thou  angel  guardian,  waft  it  to  the  skies  ! 
His  devious  course  let  fostering  heaven  survey  ; 
Nor  ills  betide,  nor  foes  arrest  his  way. 


216  EPISTLE  PROM  DR.  DWIGHT 

Nor  health  alone — -may  bliss  thy  path  attend ; 
May  truth  direct  thee,  and  may  peace  befriend ; 
From  virtue's  fount  thy  taintless  actions  flow  ; 
The  shield  of  conscience  blunt  the  <lart  of  woe ; 
To  rising  bliss  refin'd  above  alloy, 
Where  budding  wishes  blossom  into  joy, 
Where  glory  dwells,  where  saints  and  seraphs  sing, 
Let  heaven,  in  prospect,  tempt  thy  lifted  wing. 

Me  the  same  views,  the  same  soft  tide  of  cares, 
Bear  gently  onward  down  the  stream  of  years, 
Still  the  same  duties  call  my  course  along ; 
Still  grows,  at  times,  the  pain-deluding  song ; 
Still  scenes  domestic  earthly  joys  refine, 
Where  bless'd  Maria  mingles  cares  with  mine  ; 
The  same  fond  circle  still  my  life  endears, 
Where  Fairfield's  elms,  or  Stamford's  groupe  appears ; 
Or  where,  in  rural  guise,  around  me  smile 
Mansions  of  peace,  and  Greenfield's  beauteous  hill, 
Still  to  my  cot  the  friend  delighted  hies, 
And  one  lov'd  parent  waits  beneath  the  skies. 

To  thee,  far  summon 'd  from  each  native  scene, 
With  half  the  breadth  of  this  wide  world  between, 
How  bless'd  the  news  my  happy  verse  conveys, 
Of  friends,  divided  by  interfluent  seas  ? 
Health,  peace,  and  competence,  their  walks  surround, 
On  the  bright  margin  of  yon  beauteous  Sound, 
Where  Hartford  sees  the  first  of  waters  glide, 
Or  where  thy  Avon  winds  his  silver  tide. 

Yet  thou  must  mourn  a  friend,*  a  brother  dear, 
And  o'er  departed  merit  drop  a  tear. 
Him  sense  illum'd,  the  hero's  warmth  inspir'd, 
Grace  taught  to  please,  and  patriot  virtue  fir'd; 
Alike  in  peace,  in  war,  at  home,  abroad, 
Worth  gain'd  him  honour,  where  his  footsteps  trode ; 
Yet  all  in  vain,  his  laurel'd  garlands  bloom, 
But  waste  their  beauty  on  th'  untimely  tomb. 


*  Major  Elijah  Humphreys,  brother  of  Colonel  Humphreys,  who  died  in  the  West- 
Jmlies,  1785. 


TO  COLONEL  HUMPHREYS.  21? 

Meantime,  invited  o'er  th'  Atlantic  tide, 
Where  arts  refin'd  allure  thy  feet  aside, 
May'st  thou,  unmov'd  by  splendour's  painted  charms, 
And  steel'd,  when  pleasure  smiling  spreads  her  arniSj 
The  great  simplicity  of  soul  retain, 
The  humble  fear  of  heaven,  and  love  of  man, 
When  round  thy  course  temptations  sweetly  throng, 
When  warbling  syren's  chant  the  luscious  song, 
When  wealth's  fair  bubble  beams  its  hues  afar, 
When  grandeur  calls  thee  to  her  golden  car, 
When  pleasure  opes  the  bosom  bright  of  joy, 
And  the  dy'd  serpent  gazes  to  destroy; 
Oh  1  may  the  heavenly  Guide  thy  passions  warm, 
Up  virtue's  hills  thy  feet  resistless  charm, 
Show  thee  what  crowns  reward  the  gloi-ious  strife, 
And  quicken  fainting  duty  into  life. 

Oft  has  thine  eye  with  glance  indignant  seen 
Columbia's  youths,  unfolding  into  men, 
Their  minds  t'  improve,  their  manners  to  adorn, 
To  Europe's  climes  by  fond  indulgence  borne  ; 
Oft  hast  thou  seen  those  youths,  at  custom's  shrine, 
Victims  to  pride,  to  folly,  and  to  sin, 
Of  worth  bereft,  of  real  sense  forlorn, 
Their  land  forget,  their  friends,  their  freedom  spurn  j 
Each  noble  cause,  each  solid  good  desert, 
For  splendour  happiness,  and  truth  for  art ; 
The  plain  frank  manners  of  their  race  despise, 
Fair  without  fraud,  and  great  beyond  disguise ; 
Where  through  the  life  the  heart  uncover'd  ran, 
And  spoke  the  native  dignity  of  man. 

For  these,  the  gain  let  virtue  blush  to  hear, 
And  each  sad  parent  drop  the  plaintive  tear! 
Train 'd  in  foul  stews,  impoison'd  by  the  stage, 
Hoyl'd  into  gaming,  Keyser'd  into  age, 
To  smooth  hypocrisy  by  Stanhope  led, 
To  truth  an  alien,  and  to  virtue  dead, 
Swoln  with  an  English  butcher's  sour  disdajn, 
Or  to  a  fribble  dwindled  from  a  man, 
Homeward  again  behold  the  jackdaw  run, 
And  yield  his  sire  the  ruins  of  a  son ! 


218  EPISTLE  FROM  DR.  DWIGHT 

What  though  his  mind  no  thought  has  e'er  perplex'd, 
Converse  illum'd,  nor  observations  vex'd; 
Yet  here,  in  each  debate,  a  judge  he  shines, 
Of  all  that  man  enlarges  or  refines  ; 
Religion,  science,  politics,  and  song ; 
A  prodigy  his  parts,  an  oracle  his  tongue. 
Hist!  hist!  ye  mere  Americans,  attend; 
Ope  wide  your  mouths;  your  knees  in  homage  bend; 
While  Curl  discloses  to  the  raptur'd  view 
What  Peter,  Paul,  and  Moses  never  knew ; 
The  light  of  new-born  wisdom  sheds  abroad, 
And  adds  a  leanto*  to  the  word  of  God. 
What  Creole  wretch  shall  dare,  with  home-made  foils, 
Attack  opinions  brought  three  thousand  miles  ? 
Sense,  in  no  common  way  to  mortals  given, 
But  on  Atlantic  travellers  breath'd  by  heaven ; 
A  head,  en  queue,  by  Monsieur  Frizzle  dress'd; 
Manners,  a  Paris  taylor's  arts  invest ; 
Pure  criticism,  form'd  from  acted  plays, 
And  graces  that  would  even  Stanhope  grace  I 
Commercial  wisdom  merchants  here  inhale 
From  him,  whose  eye  hath  seen  th'  unfinish'd  bale, 
Whose  ieet  have  pass'd  the  shop  where  pins  were  sold, 
The  wire  was  silver'd,  and  the  heads  were  rolPd! 
Conven'd,  ye  lawyers,  make  your  humblest  leg! 
Here  stands  the  man,  has  seen  Lord  Mansfield's  wig! 
Physicians  hush'd,  hear  Galen's  lips  distil, 
From  Buchan's  contents,  all  the  art  to  heal ! 
Divines,  with  reverence  cease  your  scripture  whims, 
And  learn  this  male  Minerva's  moral  schemes; 
Schemes  theologic  found  in  Drury-Lane, 
That  prove  the  Bible  false,  and  virtue  vain  ! 
Heavens !  shall  a  child  in  learning  and  in  wit, 
O'er  Europe's  climes  a  bird  of  passage  flit ; 
There,  as  at  home,  his  stripling  self  unknown, 
By  novel  wonders  stupified  to  stone, 
Shut  from  the  wise,  and  by  no  converse  taught, 
No  well-read  day,  nor  hour  of  serious  thought, 
His  head  by  pleasure,  vice,  and  hurry,  turn'd, 
All  prudence  trampled,  all  improvements  spurn 'd; 
Shall  he,  with  less  of  Europe  in  his  cap 
Than  satchell'd  school-boy  guesses  from  the  map, 

*  An  awkward  addition  to  a  dwelling -houie,  very  coinmou  in  Nevr-EiiglanJ.. 


TO  COLONEL  HUMPHREYS,  219 

On  every  subject  strutingly  decree, 
Ken  the  far  shore  and  search  th'  unfathom'd  sea, 
Where  learning  has  her  lamp  for  ages  oil'd, 
Where  Newton  ponders  and  where  Berkeley  toil'd? 
Of  all  the  plagues  that  rise  in  human  shape, 
Good  heaven,  preserve  us  from  the  travell'd  ape ! 
"  Peace  to  all  such:"*  but  were  there  one  whose  mind 
Bold  genius  wing'd,  and  converse  pure  refin'd, 
By  nature  prompted  science  realms  to  roam, 
And  both  her  Indies  bring  with  rapture  home ; 
Who  men  and  manners  search'd  with  eagle  eye, 
Exact  to  weigh,  and  curious  to  descry ; 
Himself  who  burnish'd  with  the  hand  of  care, 
Till  kings  might  boast  so  bright  a  gem  to  wear ; 
Should  he,  deep  plung'd  in  Circe's  sensual  bowl, 
Imbrue  his  native  manliness  of  soul, 
With  eye  estrang'd,  from  fair  Columbia  turn, 
Her  youth,  her  innocence,  and  beauty  scorn ; 
To  that  foul  harlot,  Europe,  yield  his  mind, 
Witch'd  by  her  smiles,  and  to  her  snares  resign'd ; 
To  nature's  bloom  prefer  the  rouge  of  art, 
A  tinsell'd  out-side  to  a  golden  heart ; 
Show  to  the  bliss  by  simple  freedom  giv'n, 
To  virtue  Stanhope,  and  Voltaire  to  heaven ; 
Who  but  must  wish  th'  apostate  youth  to  see  ? 
Who  but  must  agonize,  were  Humphreys  he  ? 
But  all  thy  soul  shall  'scape,  th'  escape  to  aid, 
Fair  to  thy  view  be  every  motive  spread. 
Of  each  gay  cause  the  dire  effects  survey, 
And  bring  the  painted  tomb  disclos'd  to  day. 
Though  thei'e  proud  pomp  uprears  his  throne  on  high, 
Though  there  the  golden  palace  lights  the  sky, 
Though  wealth  unfolds  her  gay  Etonian  seats, 
Her  walk  of  grandeur,  and  her  wi!J  of  sweets ; 
The  stage,  the  park,  the  ring,  the  dance,  the  feast 
Charm  the  palPd  eye,  and  lure  the  loathing  taste ; 
Yet  there  fierce  war  unceasing  sounds  alarms  : 
Pride  biows  the  trump,  and  millions  rush  to  arms; 
See  steel  and  fire  extinguish  human  good ! 
See  realms  manur'd  with  corses,  and  with  blood  1 
At  slaughter's  shrine  expires  the  new-born  joy, 
And  all  Jehovah's  bounty  fiends  destroy. 

*  Fopate  prologue  to  Uie  Satires. 


220  EPISTLE  FROM  DR.  DWIGHT 

See  the  huge  jail  in  gloomy  grandeur  rise, 

Low'r  o'er  mankind,  and  mock  the  tempted  skies  I 

Hear  the  chain  clank !  the  bursting  groan  attend ! 

And  mark  the  neighbouring  gibbet's  pride  ascend. 

See  earth's  fair  face  insatiate  luxury  spoils ! 

For  one  poor  tyrant,  lo,  a  province  toils ! 

To  brothels  half  the  female  world  is  driven, 

Lost  to  themselves,  and  reprobates  of  heaven. 

There  too  refinement  glances  o'er  the  mind, 

And  nought  but  vice  and  outside  is  refin'd; 

To  vice  auspicious  brilliant  manners  blend, 

The  waxen  saint,  and  sinner,  foe  and  friend, 

Melt  from  the  seul  each  virtue,  as  they  shine, 

And  warm  th'  impoison'd  blossom  into  sin. 

In  fair  Columbia's  realms  how  chang'd  the  plan, 

Where  all  things  bloom,  but  first  of  all  things  man? 

Loi*d  of  himself,  the  independent  swain 

Sees  no  superior  stalk  the  happy  plain : 

His  house,  his  herd,  his  harvest,  all  his  own, 

His  farm  a  kingdom,  and  his  chair  a  throne. 

Unblench'd  by  foul  hypocrisy,  the  soul    . 

Speaks  in  her  face,  and  bids  his  accents  roll; 

(Her  wings  unclipp'd)  with  fire  instinctive  warms, 

Strong  pulses  feels,  and  bold  conceptions  forms; 

At  noblest  objects  aims  her  flight  supreme, 

The  purpose  vast,  and  enterprize  extreme. 

Hence  round  the  pole  her  sons  exalt  the  sail, 

Search  southern  seas,  and  rouse  the  Falkland  whale ; 

Or  on  bold  pinions  hail  the  Asian  skies, 

And  bi<3  new  stars  in  spicy  oceans  rise. 

Hence  in  bright  arms  her  chiefs  superior  flame, 

Even  now  triumphant  on  the  steep  of  fame, 

Where  Vernon's  hero  mounts  the  throne  sublime, 

And  sees  no  rival  grace  the  reign  of  time. 

Hence  countless  honours  rising  med'cine  claims; 

Hence  Law  presents  her  constellated  names ; 

The  sacred  science  sees  her  concave  bright 

Jnstarr'd,  and  beauteous,  with  the  sons  of  light: 

Hence  Edwards  cheer'd  the  world  with  moral  day, 

And  Franklin  walk'd,  unhurt,  the  realms  where  lightnings  play. 

Mechanic  genius  hence  exalts  his  eye, 

All  powers  to  measure,  and  all  scenes  descry, 

Bids  Rittenhouse  the  heav'nly  system  feign, 

And  Bushnell  search  the  chambers  of  the  main. 


TO  COLONEL  HUMPHREYS.  231 

Hence  too,  -where  Trumhull  leads  the  ardent  throng, 
Ascending  bards  begin  th'  immortal  song : 
Let  glowing  friendship  wake  the  cheerful  lyre, 
Blest  to  commend,  and  pleas'd  to  catch  the  fire. 
Be  theirs  the  fame,  to  bards  how  rarely  given ! 
To  fill  with  worth  the  part  assign'd  by  heaven ; 
Distinguish'd  actors  on  life's  busy  stage, 
Lov'd  by  mankind,  and  useful  to  the  age; 
While  science  round  them  twines  her  vernal  bays, 
And  sense  directs,  and  genius  fires  their  lays. 
While  this  fair  land  commands  thy  feet  to  roam, 
And,  all  Columbian,  still  thou  plan'st  for  home, 
From  those  bright  sages,  with  whose  mission  join'd, 
Thou  seek'st  to  build  the  interests  of  mankind, 
Experience,  wisdom,  honour,  may'st-jthou  gain, 
The  zeal  for  country,  and  the  love  of  man : 
There  through  the  civil  science  may'st  thou  run; 
There  learn  how  empii-es  are  preserv'd,  or  won; 
How  arts  politic  wide  dominions  sway; 
How  well-train'd  navies  bid  the  world  obey; 
How  war's  imperial  car  commands  the  plain, 
Or  rolls  majestic  o'er  the  subject  main ; 
Through  earth,  how  commerce  spreads  a  softer  sway, 
And  Gallia's  sons  negociate  realms  away. 

Then,  crown'd  with  eveiy  gift,  and  grace,  return, 
To  add  new  glories  to  the  Avestern  moi-n ; 
WTith  sages,  heroes,  bards,  her  charms  display, 
Her  arts,  arms,  virtues,  and  her  happy  sway ; 
Bid  o'er  the  world  her  constellation  rise, 
The  brightest  splendour  in  th'  unmeasur'd  skies, 
Her  genial  influence  through  all  nations  roll, 
And  hush  the  sound  of  war  from  pole  to  pole. 

And  oh,  may  he,  who  still'd  the  stormy  main, 
And  lightly  wing'd  thee  o'er  the  glassy  plain, 
Through  life's  rough-billow 'd  sea,  with  kinder  gales, 
With  skies  serener,  and  with  happier  sails, 
Each  shoal  escap'd,  afar  each  tempest  driven, 
And  nought  but  raptures  round  th'  enchanted  heaven., 
To  bliss,  fair  shore,  thy  prosperous  course  convey, 
And  join  my  peaceful  bark,  companion  of  thy  way. 


(    222    ) 

• 

THE  SHEPHERD: 
A  SONG. 

Translated  from  the  French. 


ti  JT  rains,  it  rains,  my  fair, 
Come  drive  your  white  sheep  fast 

To  shelter  quick  repair, 
Haste,  shepherdess,  make  haste. 

I  hear  —  the  water  pours, 
With  patt'ring  on  the  vines: 

See  here  !  see  here  !  it  lours— 
See  there  the  lightning  shines. 

The  thunder  dost  tliou  hear  ? 

Loud  roars  the  rushing  storm  : 
Take  (while  we  run,  my  dear) 

Protection  from  my  arm. 

I  see  our  cot,  ah  hold  ! 

Mamma  and  sister  Nance, 
To  open  our  sheep-fold, 

Most  cheerily  advance. 

God  bless  my  mother  dear, 

My  sister  Nancy  too  ! 
I  bring  my  sweet-heart  here, 

To  sleep  to-night  with  you. 

Go,  dry  yourself,  my  friend, 
And  make  yourself  at  home- 

Sister,  on  her  attend  : 

Come  in,  sweet  lambkins,  come, 

Mamma,  let's  take  good  care 
Of  all  her  pretty  sheep  ; 

Her  little  lamb  we'll  spare 
More  straw  whereon  to  sleep. 


MOUNT-VERNON.  223 


'Tis  done — now  let  us  haste 
To  her ; — you  here,  my  fair ! 

Undress'd,  oh  what  a  waist! 
My  mother,  look  you  there. 

Let's  sup ;  come  take  this  place, 

You  shall  be  next  to  me ; 
This  pine-knot's  cheerful  blaze 

Shall  shine  direct  on  thee. 

Come  taste  this  cream  so  sweet, 

This  syllabub  so  warm ; 
Alas  !  you  do  not  eat: 

You  feel  e'en  yet  the  storm. 

'Twas  wrong — I  press'd  too  much 
Your  steps,  when  on  the  way : 

But  here,  see  here  your  couch- 
There  sleep  till  dawn  of  day, 

With  gold  the  mountain  tips:~ 
Good  night,  good  night,  my  dove ! 

Now  let  me  on  your  lips 
Imprint  one  kiss  of  love. 

Mamma  and  I  will  come, 
As  soon  as  morn  shall  shine, 

To  see  my  sweet-heart  home, 
And  ask  her  hand  for  mine." 


MOUNT-VERNON: 
AN  ODE.» 

JDY  broad  Potowmack's  azure  tide, 
Where  Vernon's  mount,  in  sylvan  pride, 

Displays  its  beauties  far, 
Great  Washington,  to  peaceful  shadeS| 
Where  no  unhallow'd  wish  invades, 

Retir'd  from  fields  of  war. 

*  Written  at  Mount- Vernon,  August,  178S. 


524  MOUNT-VERNON. 

Angels  might  see,  with  joy,  the  sage, 
Who  taught  the  battle  where  to  rage, 

Or  quench'd  its  spreading  flame, 
On  works  of  peace  employ  that  hand, 
Which  wav'd  the  blade  of  high  command, 

And  hew'd  the  path  to  fame. 

Let  others  sing  his  deeds  in  arms, 

A  nation  sav'd,  and  conquest's  charms : 

Posterity  shall  hear, 

'Twas  mine,  return'd  from  Europe's  courts, 
To  share  his  thoughts,  partake  his  sports, 

And  sooth  his  partial  car. 

To  thee,  my  friend,  these  lays  belong : 
Thy  happy  seat  inspires  my  song, 

With  gay,  perennial  blooms, 
With  fruitage  fair,  and  cool  retreats, 
Whose  bow'ry  wilderness  of  sweets 

The  ambient  air  perfumes. 

Here  spring  its  earliest  buds  displays, 
Here  latest  on  the  leafless  sprays 

The  plumy  people  sing ; 
The  vernal  show'r,  the  rip'ning  year, 
Th'  autumnal  store,  the  winter  drear. 

For  thee  new  pleasures  bring. 

Here  lapp'd  in  philosophic  ease, 
Within  thy  walks,  beneath  thy  trees, 

Amidst  thine  ample  farms, 
No  vulgar  converse  heroes  hold, 
But  past  or  future  scenes  unfold, 

Or  dwell  on  nature's  charms. 

What  wond'rous  zera  have  we  seen, 
Plac'd  on  this  isthmus,  half  between 

A  rude  and  polish 'd  state  ! 
We  saw  the  war  tempestuous  rise, 
In  arms  a  world,  in  blood  the  skies, 

In  doubt  an  empire's  fate. 

The  storm  is  calm'd,  seren'd  the  heav'n*, 
And  mildly  o'er  the  climes  of  ev'n  j. 

Expands  th'  imperial  day : 


THE  GENIUS  OF  AMERICA.  32$ 

**  O  God,  the  source  of  light  supreme^ 
"  Shed  on  our  dusky  morn  a  gleam, 
"  To  guide  our  doubtful  way ! 

"  Restrain,  dread  Pow'r,  our  land  from  crimes ! 
"  What  seeks,  though  blest  beyond  all  times, 

"  So  querulous  an  age  ? 
<l  What  means  to  freedom  such  disgust ; 
"  Of  change,  of  anarchy  the  lust, 

"  The  fickleness  and  rage  ?" 

So  spake  his  country's  friend,  with  sighs, 
To  find  that  country  still  despise 

The  legacy  he  gave—- 
And  half  he  fear'd  his  toils  were  vain, 
And  much  that  man  would  court  a  chain, 

And  live  through  vice  a  slave.  v 

A  transient  gloom  o'ercast  his  mind : 
Yet,  still  on  providence  reclin'd, 

The  patriot  fond  believ'd, 
That  pow'r  benign  too  much  had  done, 
To  leave  an  empire's  task  begun, 

Imperfectly  achiev'd. 

Thus  buoy'd  with  hope,  with  virtue  blest, 
Of  ev'ry  human  bliss  possess'd, 

He  meets  the  happier  hours : 
His  skies  assume  a  lovelier  blue, 
His  prospects  brighter  rise  to  view, 

And  fairer  bloom  his  flow'rs. 


THE  GENIUS  OF  AMERICA.* 
A  SONG. 

TUNE— The  Watery  God,  &c. 

WHERE  spirits  dwell,  and  shad'wy  forms, 
On  Andes'  cliffs,  'mid  black'ning  storms, 
With  livid  lightnings  curl'd  ; 


*  Written  during  the  insurrections  in  Massachusetts,  in  the  year  1787. 
2G 


226  THE  GENIUS  OF  AMERICA. 

The  awful  genius  of  our  clime, 
In  thunder  rais'd  his  voice  sublime^ 
And  hush'd  the  list'ning  world. 

"  In  lonely  waves  and  wastes  of  earth, 
"  A  mighty  empire  claims  its  birth, 

"  And  heav'n  asserts  the  claim ; 
"  The  sails  that  hang  in  yon  dim  sky, 
K  Proclaim  the  promis'd  jera  nigh, 

"  Which  wakes  a  world  to  fame. 

"  Hail  ye  first  bounding  barks  that  roam, 
"  Blue  tumbling  billows  topp'd  with  foam, 

"  Which  keel  ne'er  plough'd  before ! 
11  Here  suns  perform  their  useless  round, 
K  Here  rove  the  naked  tribes  embrown'd, 

"  Who  feed  on  living  gore. 

"  To  midnight  orgies,  off'ring  dire, 
"  The  human  sacrifice  on  fire, 

"  A  heav'nly  light  succeeds — 
(l  But,  lo  I  what  horrors  intervene, 
"  The  toils  severe,  the  carnag'd  scene, 

"  And  more  than  mortal  deeds ! 

"  Ye  fathers,  spread  your  fame  afar, 
"  'Tis  yours  to  still  the  sounds  of  war, 

"  And  bid  the  slaughter  cease  ; 
"  The  peopling  hamlets  wide  extend, 
"  The  harvests  spring,  the  spires  ascend, 

"  'Mid  grateful  songs  of  peace. 

"  Shall  steed  to  steed,  and  man  to  man, 
"  With  discord  thund'ring  in  the  van, 

"  Again  destroy  the  bliss  ? 
"  Enough  my  mystic  words  reveal, 
*'  The  rest  the  shades  of  night  conceal 

"  In  fate's  profound  abyss." 


EPILOGUE  TO  THE  WIDOW  OF  MALABAR.      229 

Hearts  form'd  for  love,  but  doom'd  in  vain  to  glow 
In  prison'd  pomp,  and  weep  in  splendid  woe : — 
Or  see  their  fate  in  India  more  severe, 
The  sad  companions  of  a  husband's  bier  ! — 

Not  such  their  doom,  where  genial  science  shines, 

And  heav'n-born  freedom  human  souls  refines, 

Where  polish'd  manners  social  life  improve, 

And  teach  us  to  respect  the  sex  we  love ; 

Confirm  their  claims  in  equal  rights  to  share, 

Friends  in  our  bliss,  and  partners  in  our  carer— 
And  hail,  ye  fair,  of  ev'ry  charm  possess'd — 

Who  grace  this  rising  empire  of  the  west; 

With  better  fates,  and  nobler  genius  born, 

Your  sex  to  honour,  and  your  land  adorn ; 

In  this  blest  age,  to  share  our  fond  regard, 

The  friends  of  heroes,  and  their  blest  reward  I— 
Yet  when  o'er  foreign  woes  ye  shed  a  tear, 

And  find  your  bliss  by  contrast  still  more  dear ; 

With  humble  joy  adore  th'  Almighty  hand, 

Which  fix'd  your  birth  in  this  auspicious  land ! 

Ye  gen'rous  patrons  who  protect  our  stage, 
Friends  to  the  arts,  and  guardians  of  the  age ; 
To  tragic  woes  now  lend  the  list'ning  eai*, 
Attend  with  candour,  with  indulgence  hear ! 
While  we  display,  in  pleading  nature's  cause, 
Our  best  attempts  to  merit  your  applause ! 


EPILOGUE 

TO 

THE  WIDOW  OF  MALABAR. 

Spoken  by  Mrs.  Henry,  in  the  Character  of  Lanis:«. 

WELL,  here  I  come — and  almost  out  of  breath, 
'Twixt  love,  fire,  fear,  and  widowhood  and  death  ; 
While  I  for  such  fictitious  strife  am  harness'd — 
I  feel— I  suffer — more  than  half  in  earnest: 


230      EPILOGUE  TO  THE  WIDOW  OF  MALABAR. 

By  Bramins'  seiz'd — those  bloody-minded  fellows — 
My  hair-breadth  'scapes  were  greater  than  Othello's  1 
Nought  could  have  sav'd  me  from  the  jaws  of  fate, 
Had  my  French  lover  came  one  breath  too  late. — 
The  pile  prepar'd  and  kindling  brisk  as  tinder, 
They'd  bern'd  your  poor  Lanissa  to  a  cinder ! 

But  well  our  author  had  contriv'd  the  whole, 
And  seems,  in  truth,  a  right  good-natur'd  soul : 
He  swears  himself  his  drama,  without  vanity, 
Is  founded  on  the  basis  of  humanity  ; 
Without  one  RULE  or  UNITY  infringing, 
He  sav'd  his  heroine  from  a  mortal  singing — 
So  after  all  this  mighty  fire  and  rattle, 
Our  bloodless  play  is  like  a  bloodless  battle. 

Am  I  to  blame,  if,  this  dear  life  to  save, 
I  lik'd  a  lover  better  than  a  grave  ; 
Prefer'd  your  Christian  maxims  for  a  drama, 
To  all  the  murd'rous  rites  of  pagan  Brama ; 
And  held,  retreating  from  my  fun'ral  urn, 
<;  'Twas  better  far  to  marry  than  to  burn  ?" 
No — I'll  be  burn'd,  but  ev'ry  maid  and  widow 
Would  do,  in  such  a  case,  just  as  I  did  do. 

Yes — thank  your  stars,  Columbia's  happy  dames  I 
Ye  need  not  fear  those  frightful  fun'ral  flames : — 
Of  other  lands  let  foreign  bards  be  dreaming, 
But  this,  this  only  is  the  land  for  women  : — 
Here  ye  invert  the  Bramins'  barb'rous  plan, 
And  stretch  your  sceptre  o'er  the  tyrant — man. 

Ye  men,  if  I  offend,  I  ask  your  pardon, 
I  would  not  for  the  world  your  sex  bear  hard  on. 
Ye  are  the  fathers,  founders  of  a  nation, 
The  gods  on  earth,  the  lords  of  this  creation  J 
And  let  philosophers  say  what  they  please, 
You're  not  groitm  less  by  coming  o'er  the  seas : — 
We  know  your  worth,  and  dare  proclaim  your  merit. — . 
The  world  may  ask  your  foes,  "  if  you  want  spirit?" 
Your  vict'ries  won — your  revolution  ended — 
Your  constitution  newly  made — and  mended— » 
Your  fund  of  wit — your  intellectual  riches — 
Plans  in  the  closet — in  the  senate  speeches — 


EPILOGUE  TO  THE  WIDOW  OF  MALABAR.      231 

Will  make  this  age  of  heroes,  wits,  and  sages, 

The  first  in  story  to  the  latest  ages  I 

Go  on — and  prosper  with  your  projects  blest, 

Till  your  millennium  rises  in  the  west : — 

We  wish  success  to  your  politic  scheming, 

Rule  ye  the  world  J — and  then — be  rul'd  by  women  !— * 

For  here,  ye  fair,  no  servile  rites  bear  sway, 
Nor  force  ye — (though  ye  promise) — to  obey : 
Blest  in  the  mildness  of  this  temp'rate.zone, 
Slaves  to  no  whims,  or  follies — but  your  own. — 
Here  custom,  check'd  in  ev'ry  rude  excess, 
Confines  its  influence  to  the  arts  of  dress, 
O'er  charms  eclips'd  the  side-long  hat  displays, 
Extends  the  hoop,  or  pares  away  the  stays, 
Bedecks  the  fair  with  artificial  geer, 
Breast-works  in  front,  and  bishops  in  the  rear : — 
The  idol  rears,  on  beauty's  dazzling  throne, 
Mankind  her  slaves,  and  all  the  world  her  own  ; 
Bound  by  no  laws  a  husband's  whims  to  fear, 
Obey  in  life,  or  burn  upon  his  bier; 
She  views  with  equal  eye,  sub:ime  o'er  all, 
A  lover  perish — or  a  lap-dog  fall — 
Coxcombs  or  monkey  from  their  chains  broke  loose — 
And  now  a  husband  dead — and  now  a  goose. 

But  jesting  all  apart — and  such  droll  strictures ; 
We'll  strive  to  chafm  you  with  still  fairer  pictures — 
For  'tis  our  object  to  divert — not  tease  you — 
To  make  you  laugh  or  cry — as  best  shall  please  you — 
So  as  it  suits  each  kind  spectator's  turn, 
You'll  come  to  see  me  play  the  fool — or  burn — 
Ladies  and  gentlemen !  on  this  condition, 
I  humbly  offer  my  sincere  petition, 
That  you'll  come  oft  to  hear  me  sing  or  say — 
<{  And  poor  Lanissa  will  for  ever  pray." 


SONNETS. 


There  are  remarkable  periods  and  events,  which  may  serve, 
figuratively  speaking,  as  fioints  of  view,  to  guide  the  memory 
in  retracing  our  wanderings  through  this  world  of  vicissitudes 
and  care.  The  times  on  which  we  have  fallen,  and  the  situa 
tions  in  which  I  have  been  placed,  may  have  furnished,  per- 
haps,  an  unusual  number.  Upon  lately  looking  over  my 
papers,  I  found  a  few  Sonnets  which  recalled  to  recollection 
tome  of  the  feelings  with  which  they  were  written.  It  is  pre 
sumed,  the  dates  and  titles  will  generally  point  out  what  shall 
be  sufficient  to  be  known  respecting  these  compositions,  without 
illustration. 

New-Haven,  November,  1802. 


SONNET  I. 

Addressed  to  my  Friends  at  Yale  College,  on  my  leaving 
them  to  join  the  Army. 

ADIEU,  thou  Yale !  where  youthful  poets  dwell, 
No  more  I  linger  by  thy  classic  stream. 
Inglorious  ease  and  sportive  songs  farewell ! 
Thou  startling  clarion!  break  the  sleeper's  dream! 

And  sing,  ye  bards !  the  war-inspiring  theme. 
Heard  ye  the  din  of  battle?  clang  of  arms? 
Saw  ye  the  steel  'mid  starry  banners  beam? 
Quick  throbs  my  breast  at  war's  untried  alarms, 
Unknown  pulsations  stirr'd  by  glory's  charms. 

While  dear  Columbia  calls,  no  danger  awes, 
Though  certain  death  to  threaten'd  chains  be  join'd. 
Though  fails  this  flesh  devote  to  freedom's  cause, 
Can  death  subdue  th'  unconquerable  mind  ? 
Or  adamantine  chains  ethereal  substance  bind? 


(     233     ) 

SONNET   II. 
ON  THE  REVOLUTIONARY  WAR  IN  AMERICA. 

\v  HEN  civil  war  aw.ik'd  his  wrathful  fire, 
I  saw  the  Britons'  burnings  stain  the  sky ; 
I  saw  the  combat  rage  with  ruthless  ire, 
Welt'ring  in  gore  the  dead  and  dying  lye ! 

How  devastation  crimson 'd  on  my  eye, 
When  swoon'd  the  frighten 'd  maid ;  the  matron  fled 
And  wept  her  missing  child  with  thrilling  cry; 
Old  men  on  staves,  and  sick  men  from  their  bed 
Crept,  while  the  foe  the  conflagration  sped ! 

So  broods,  in  upper  skies,  that  tempest  dire, 
Whence  fiercer  heat  these  elements  shall  warm ; 
What  time,  in  robes  of  blood  and  locks  of  fire, 
Th'  exterminating  angel's  awful  form 
Blows  the  grave-rending  blast,  and  guides  the  redd'ning  storm. 


SONNET  III. 
ON  THE  PROSPECT  OF  PEACE,   IN  1783. 

.T  ROM  worlds  of  bliss,  above  the  solar  bounds, 
Thou,  Peace !  descending  in  these  skirts  of  day, 
Bring  heav'nly  balm  to  heal  my  country's  wounds, 
Joy  to  my  soul,  and  transport  to  my  lay  ! 

Too  long  the  cannon,  'mid  the  grim  array 
Of  charging  hosts,  insufferably  roar'd  ; 
When  rose  th'  Almighty  pow'r,  with  sovereign  sway, 
To  end  the  battle  mutual  inroads  gor'd, 
Spare  squander'd  blood,  and  sheath  the  wearied  sword. 

Now  bids  that  voice  divine  th'  invaders  yield, 
From  glooms  of  midnight  morn's  gay  prospects  rise  : 
There,  see  the  dawn  of  heav'n's  great  day  reveal'd, 
Where  new  auroras  dim  our  dazzled  eyes, 
Flash  o'er  th'  Atlantic  waves,  and  fire  the  western  skies ! 


2H 


(    234    ) 

SONNET  IV. 
ON  DISBANDING  THE  ARMY.* 

Y  E  brave  Columbian  bands !  a  long  farewell ! 
Well  have  ye  fought  for  freedom — nobly  done 
Your  martial  task — the  meed  immortal  won — 
And  time's  last  records  shall  your  triumphs  tell. 

Once  friendship  made  their  cup  of  suff 'rings  sweet— 
The  dregs  how  bitter  now  those  bands  must  part ! 
Ah  !  never,  never  more  on  earth  to  meet : 
Distill'd  from  gall  that  inundates  the  heart, 
What  tears  from  heroes'  eyes  are  seen  to  start  I 

Ye,  too,  farewell,  who  fell  in  fields  of  gore, 
And  chang'd  tempestuous  toil  for  rest  serene  ; 
Soon  shall  we  join  you  on  the  peaceful  shore, 
(Though  gulfs  irremeable  i*oll  between) 
Thither  by  death-tides  borne,  as  ye  full  soon  have  been* 

SONNET  V. 

ON  LIFE. 

Jl,RE  we  can  think  of  time — the  moment's  past— 
And  straight  another  since  that  thought  began : 
So  swift  each  instant  mingles  with  the  last, 
The  flying  now  exists — no  more  f  for  man. 

With  consciousness  suspended  ev'n  by  sleep, 
To  what  this  phantom,  life,  then  likest  seems? 
Say,  thou  !  whose  doubtful  being  (lost  in  dreams) 
Allows  the  wilder 'd  but  to  wake  and  weep, 
So  thoughtless  hurried  to  th'  eternal  deep ! 

'Tis  like  a  moon-light  vision's  airy  shade, 
A  bubble  driving  down  the  deep  beneath — 
Then,  ere  the  bubble  burst,  the  vision  fade, 
Dissolv'd  in  air  this  evanescent  breath  ! 
Let  man,  not  mortal,  learn  true  life  begins  at  death. 

*  It  will  be  difficult  for  any  person  who  was  not  present  with  the  troops  at  the  conclutian 
of  the  war,  to  form  an  adequate  idea  of  the  affecting  circumstances  which  attended  the  dis 
banding  of  the  army. 

+  With  the  Deity,  past,  present,  and  future,  (as  they  respect  man,  who  recognizw  the  parts 
•f  duration  by  succession)  are  the  sam*. 


(    2S5     ) 

SONNET  VI. 
ON  A  NIGHT-STORM  AT  SEA.* 

XlEAV'N'S !  what  a  sight  my  startled  eyes  behold ! 
'Mid  peals  of  thunder  how  the  lightnings  play ! 
Now  dark'ning  clouds,  in  dire  confusion  roll'd, 
Hide  the  last  glimm'rings  of  departed  day. 

Now  night  in  tenfold  gloom  begins  her  reign ; 
Wild  bounds  our  bark  with  all  her  canvass  furl'd. 
How  howls  the  madd'ning  wind  along  the  main, 
The  breaking  billows  o'er  the  topmast  hurPd, 
And  fearful  yawns,  by  fits,  th'  unfathom'd  world ! 

Oh,  thou!  whom  not  the  heav'n  of  heav'ns  contains, 
Who  oft  has  sav'd  me  from  the  wat'ry  grave, 
And  leaden  deaths  that  cours'd  the  crimson  plains  ; 
Thy  arm  Omnipotent  extend  to  save, 
Oh,  speed  the  halcyon  dawn  and  still  the  stormy  wave.. 


SONNET  VII. 

On  a  calm  Morning  iv/ricJi  succeeded  a  Night-Storm  <at  Sta* 

1  HAT  pow'r,  whose  voice  from  Chaos"  vast  inane 
CalPd  this  fair  orb,  when  sang  the  sister-stars, 
Hath  lull'd  the  tumult  of  the  madden 'd  main, 
And  hush'd  the  rage  of  elemental  wars. 
> 

Where  rav'd  the  tempest — yields  the  blast  of  night 
To  matin  gales  that  smooth  the  liquid  way, — 
And  orient  morn,  in  beams  of  beauty  bright, 
Awakes  the  rapture  of  the  hymning  lay, 
Thy  tribute  due,  eternal  source  of  day  J 

Where  night  more  dismal  dwells,  with  gladd'ning  light 
So  will  a  day-star  spring  ;  to  cheer  the  gloom 
Where  chills  of  death  the  buds  of  being  blight ; 
To  wake  the  sleeping  tenants  of  the  tomb, 
And  make  their  faded  forms  in  youth  immortal  bloom, 

*  The  two  Sonnets,  on  a  storm  and  calm  at  ten,  were  composed  on  board  the  brig  Sophia, 
a. dispatch  vessel  of  the  United  States,  pnrthased  by  the  American  governmiT.t  tt>  carry  *!vr 
<autboi  to  .Europe  in  1795. 


(     236     ) 

SONNET  VIII. 
ON  THE  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL. 

IVJ  Y  Heav'n-born  soul !  by  body  unconfin'd, 
Leave  that  low  tenement,  and  roam  abroad ; 
Forestall  the  time,  when,  left  each  clog  behind, 
Thy  flight  shall  mount  where  never  mortal  trod. 

Ev'n  now,  methinks,  upborne  in  tranced  dream*, 
The  disencumber'd  essence  tries  its  wings ; 
Sees  better  planets,  basks  in  brighter  beams, 
To  purer  sight  mysterious  symbols  brings, 
Of  unconceiv'd,  unutterable  things. 

Though  dust  retum'd  to  dust  the  worms  devour, 
Thee,  can  dread  death  annihilate  or  bind  ? 
There,  king  of  terrors  !  stops  thy  dreaded  pow'r ; 
The  bright  assurgent  from  all  dross  refin'd, 
High  o'er  th'  immense  of  space  regains  the  world  of  mind. 


SONNET  IX. 

On  the  Death  of  Major  JOHN  PALLSGRAVE  WYLLYK, 

JDELOVD  in  life !  and  mourn'd  in  death!  when  slain, 
Where  flow'd  the  sanguine  flood  of  savage  war — 
Where  white  with  red*  men  mingling  press'd  the  plain, 
Thy  bones  long  bleaching  in  lone  fields  afar: 

Thee,  Wyllys !  thee,  the  sighing  winds  deplore, 
Through  wilds  where  axe-men  erst  no  branch  had  fell'd: 
Still  mourns  for  thee,  Ohio's  peopling  shore, 
His  groves  (where  late  the  painted  warriors  yell'd) 
Vocal  with  grief,  with  tears  his  waters  swell'd. 

No  friend  was  nigh  to  lave  thy  clotted  wound, 
Catch  thy  last  breath,  and  close  thy  bursting  eyes; 
Yet  thee  full  cities  wail  in  woe  profound — 
Thy  friends,  thy  sire,  beyond  funereal  cries, 
Stifle  in  dumb  despair  abortive  groans  and  sighs.— 

*  The  aboriginal  inhabitsfits  of  America  denominate  the  Europeans  »he  fa/e,  and  them 
selves  the  red  flesh. 


(     237     ) 

SONNET  X. 

On  the  Murders  committed  by  the  Jacobin  Faction  in  the 
early  Period  of  the  French  Revolution* 

VV  HEN  heads  by  guillotines  all  ghastly  fell, 
As,  mad  for  gore,  o'er  Gaul  a  faction  hung; 
Then  giant  Terror  tolFd  his  nightly  knell, 
Wide  on  the  winds  the  sounds  of  murder  flung  1 

With  agonizing  shrieks  each  prison  rung— 
Nor  yet  the  tocsin  ceas'd  its  louder  roar, 
But  every  time  it  undulating  swung, 
Cold  horror  froze  through  every  shivering  pore, 
For  victims  doom'd  to  view  the  dawn  no  more. 

Those  blood-stain 'd  Jacobins  in  turn  shall  fall, 
Murd'rers  of  millions  under  freedom's  name! 
But  not  the  blood  that  delug'd  frantic  Gaul, 
In  calm  Columbia  quenches  reason's  flame, 
Or  blots  with  bloody  slur  our  fair  Republic's  fame. 

SONNET  XI. 

Addressed  to  his  Royal  Highness  the  Prince  of  Brazil,  on  my 
taking  leave  of  the  Court  of  Lisbon,  July,  1797. 

-T  AREWELL  ye  flow'ry  fields!  where  nature's  hand 
Profusely  sheds  her  vegetable  store, 
Nurtur'd  by  genial  suns  and  zephyrs  bland ! 
Farewell  thou  Tagus!  and  thy  friendly  shore: 

Long  shall  my  soul  thy  lost  retreats  deplore, 
Thy  haunts  where  shades  of  heroes  met  my  eyes— * 
As  oft  I  mus'd  where  Camr.ens  trod  before, 
I  saw  the  godlike  form  of  Gama  rise, 
With  chiefs  renown'd  beneath  yon  eastern  skies. 

Oh,  long  may  peace  and  glory  crown  thy  scene — 
Farewell,  just  Prince !  no  sycophantic  lay 
Insults  thy  ear — be  what  thy  sires  have  been, 
Thy  great  progenitors !  who  op'd  the  way 
Through  seas  unsail'd  before  to  climes  of  orient  day. 

This  Sonnet  was  translated  into  Portuguese  verse  by  the  Marshall-General}  and  Comman 
der  in  Chief,  Dake  de  Alafocw3  the  uncle  of  the  Q.UBCD  of  Portugal, 


(    338     } 

SONNET  XII. 

On  receiving  the  JVetvs  of  the  Death  of  General 

XJ.ARK!  friends!  what  sobs  of  sorrow,  moans  of  grief, 
On  every  gale,  through  every  region  spread  I 
Hark !  how  the  western  world  bewails  our  chief. 
Great  Washington,  his  country's  father  dead! 

Our  living  light  expiring  with  his  breath, 
His  bright  example  still  illumes  our  way 
Through  the  dark  valley  of  thy  shadow,  death ! 
To  realms  on  high  of  life  without  decay, 

Faint,  he  relied  on  heav'nly  help  alone, 
While  conscience  cheer'd  th'  inevitable  hour ; 
When  fades  the  glare  of  grandeur,  pomp  of  pow'f, 
And  all  the  pageantry  that  gems  a  throne  : 
Then  from  his  hallow'd  track,  who  shall  entice 
Columbia's  sons  to  tread  the  paths  of  vice? 


FAREWELL, 
FROM  THE  ABBE  O 'MOORE, 

A.DDRESSED 

TO  THE  HONOURABLE  DAVID  HUMPHREYS, 

Minister  Plenipotentiary  of  the  United  States  of  America,  at  the  Court  of  Madrid. 

_L  HEE,  Humphreys !  I  address,  since  ev'n  thy  name 

Can  in  cold  bosoms  light  a  poet's  flame ; 

And  well  it  suits  an  humble  muse  like  mine, 

Prostrate  to  own  the  dignity  of  thine. 

This  day  each  maid  that  haunts  the  sacred  spring, 

Salutes  the  infant  year  from  every  string ; 

Save  mine,  who  lonely  vales  and  woods  among, 

Her  hair  dishevell'd  and  her  harp  unstrung, 

Weeps  that,  like  Philomel,  thou  soon  wilt  fly 

To  distant  groves,  beneath  another  sky. 

Oh,  how  unlike  the  proud  when  rais'd  to  rank. 
Too  swol'n  to  move  within  their  nat'ral  bank, 
WTio,  soon  o'erflowing,  with  resistless  force, 
Break  down  each  bridge  of  social  intercourse  ! 


FAREWELL.  339 

Humphreys  has  strength  of  character  to  bear, 
Unmov'd,  all  fortunes  in  a  lofty  sphere  ; 
Beneath  his  feet  repulsive  pride  to  throw. 
And  stoop  with  dignity  to  those  below. 
But  if  his  country  bids,  in  arduous  hour, 
He,  bold,  asserts  his  ministerial  power ; 
And  mildly  stubborn,  ev'n  before  a  throne, 
Supports  his  nation's  honour  and  his  own. 

So  of  himself  an  emblem  is  his  muse, 
Both  ever  quick  the  proper  tone  to  choose  ; — 
From  her  how  unaffected  flows  the  strain, 
Whene'er  she  treads  the  woodland  and  the  plain ; 
But  when  her  trumpet  sounds  the  rough  alarms, 
And  calls  Columbia's  patriot  sons  to  arms ; 
Then  fierce  and  spirited  the  note  she  pours, 
And  hosts  rise  thund'ring,  "  Freedom  shall  be  ours!" 

Blest  Poet,  Patriot,  Warrior,  oh,  that  long 
Thy  life  may  charm  with  virtue  and  with  song ! 
FAREWELL  !  and  gentle  as  thy  partner's  mind, 
May'st  thou  thy  passage  to  thy  country  find : 
Charm'd  OCEAN  emulate  her  placid  souj, 
Nor  storms  arise,  nor  angry  billows  roll ; 
But  waft  both  swiftly  o'er  his  rude  domains, 
To  those,  by  Humphreys  made,  immortal  plains ; 
Where  first  by  Freedom  and  by  genius  taught, 
Alike  he  sweetly  sung  and  bravely  fought. 

WILLIAM  O'MOORE, 

Chaplain  to  his  Catholic  Majesty's  Foot  Willoon  Guards. 

Madrid^  Jan.  1,  1803. 


AN 

ESSAY 

i 

ON  THE 

LIFE 

/ 
OF  THE 

HONOURABLE  MAJOR-GENERAL 

ISRAEL    PUTNAM. 


ADDRESSED  TO  THE 

< 


STATE  SOCIETY  OF  THE  CINCINNATI  IN  CONNECTICUT. 


PUBLISHED  BY  THEIR  ORDER. 


21 


TO    THE 


HON.  COL.  JEREMIAH  WADSWORTH, 

President  of  the  State  Society  of  the  Cincinnati 
in  Connecticut,  Sec. 


MT  DEAR  SIR, 

\j  NAVOIDABLE  absence  will  prevent  me  from  performing 
the  grateful  task  assigned  me  by  the  State  Society  of  the  Cincin 
nati  on  the  fourth  day  of  July  next.  Though  I  cannot  personally 
address  them,  I  wish  to  demonstrate,  by  some  token  of  affectionate 
remembrance,  the  sense  I  entertain  of  the  honour  they  have 
more  than  once  conferred  upon  me  by  their  suffrages. 

Meditating  in  what  manner  to  accomplish  this  object,  it  oc 
curred  to  me,  that  an  attempt  to  preserve  the  actions  of  General 
Putnam,  in  the  archives  of  our  State  Society,  would  be  acceptable 
to  its  members,  as  they  had  all  served  with  great  satisfaction 
under  his  immediate  orders.  An  essay  on  the  life  of  a  person  so 
elevated  in  military  rank,  and  so  conversant  in  extraordinary 
scenes,  could  not  be  destitute  of  amusement  and  instruction,  and 
would  possess  the  advantage  of  presenting  for  imitation  a  re 
spectable  model  of  public  and  private  virtues. 

General  Putnam  is  universally  acknowledged  to  have  been  as 
brave  and  as  honest  a  man  as  ever  America  produced;  but  the 
distinguishing  features  of  his  character,  and  the  particular  trans 
actions  of  his  life,  are  but  imperfectly  known.  He  seems  to  have 
been  formed  on  purpose  for  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  His  native 
courage,  unshaken  integrity,  and  established  reputation  as  a  sol 
dier,  were  necessary  in  the  early  stages  of  our  opposition  to  the 
designs  of  Great-Britain,  and  gave  unbounded  confidence  to  our 
troops  in  their  first  conflicts  in  the  field  of  battle. 

The  enclosed  manuscript  justly  claims  indulgence  for  its  venial 
.errors,  as  it  is  the  first  effort  in  Biography  that  has  been  made 
on  this  continent.  The  attempt,  I  am  conscious,  is  laudable,  what- 
«ver  may  be  the  failure  in  point  of  execution. 


244          LETTER  TO  COLONEL  WADSWORTH. 

I  am  happy  to  find  the  Society  of  the  Cincinnati  is  now  gene 
rally  regarded  in  a  favourable  manner.  Mankind,  with  few 
exceptions,  are  disposed  to  do  justice  to  the  motives  on  which  it 
was  founded.  For  ourselves,  we  can  never  recall  to  mind  the 
occasion,  without  feeling  the  most  tender  emotions  of  friendship 
and  sensibility.  At  the  dissolution  of  the  army,  when  we  retired" 
to  separate  walks  of  life,  from  the  toils  of  a  successful  war,  in 
which  we  had  been  associated  during  a  very  important  part  of 
our  lives,  the  pleasing  idea,  and  the  fond  hope  of  meeting  once 
a  year,  which  ga~6e  birth  to  our  fraternal  institution,  were 
necessary  consolations  to  sooth  the  pangs  that  tore  our  bosoms 
at  the  melancholy  hour  of  parting.  When  our  hands  touched, 
perhaps  for  the  last  time,  and  our  tongues  refused  to  perform 
their  office  in  bidding  farewell,  heaven  witnessed  and  approved 
the  purity  of  our  intentions  in  the  ardour  of  our  affections.  May 
we  persevere  in  the  union  of  our  friendship,  and  the  exertion  of 
our  benevolence ;  regardless  of  the  censures  of  jealous  suspicion, 
which  charges  our  designs  with  selfishness,  and  ascribes  our  ac 
tions  to  improper  motives;  while  we  realize  sentiments  of  a 
nobler  nature  in  our  anniversary  festivities,  and  our  hearts  dilate 
with  an  honest  joy,  in  opening  the  hand  of  beneficence  to  the  in 
digent  widow  and  unprotected  orphan  of  our  departed  friends. 

I  pray  you,  my  dear  Sir,  to  present  my  most  respectful  com 
pliments  to  the  members  of  the  Society,  and  to  assure  them,  on  my 
part,  that  whensoever  it  shall  be  in  my  power,  I  shall  esteem  it 
the  felicity  of  my  life  to  attend  their  anniversaries. 
I  have  the  honour  to  be, 

With  sentiments  of  the  highest  consideration  and  esteem, 
Your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant, 

D.  HUMPHREYS. 
Mount-Vemon,  in  Virginia, 

June4,  1788. 


AN 

ESSAY 

ON    THE 

LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 


-I  O  treat  of  recent  transactions  and  persons  still  living,  is  always 
a  delicate,  and  frequently  a  thankless  office.  Yet,  while  the  par 
tiality  of  friends,  or  the  malignity  of  enemies,  decides  with  rashness 
on  every  delineation  of  character,  or  recital  of  circumstances,  a 
consolation  remains,  that  distant  nations,  and  remoter  ages,  free 
from  the  influence  of  prejudice  or  passion,  will  judge  with  impar 
tiality,  and  appreciate  with  justice.  We  have  fallen  upon  an  xra 
singularly  prolific  in  extraordinary  personages,  and  dignified  by 
splendid  events.  Much  is  expected  from  the  selections  of  the  ju 
dicious  biographer,  as  well  as  from  the  labours  of  the  faithful  his 
torian.  Whatever  prudential  reasons  may  now  occur  to  postpone 
the  portrait  of  our  own  times,  the  difficulties  which  oppose  them 
selves  to  the  execution,  instead  of  being  diminished,  will  increase 
with  the  lapse  of  years.  Every  day  will  extinguish  some  life  that 
•was  dear  to  fame,  and  obliterate  the  memorial  of  some  deed  which 
would  have  constituted  the  delight  and  admiration  of  the  world. 

So  transient  and  indistinguishable  are  the  traits  of  character,  so 
various  and  inexplicable  the  springs  of  action,  so  obscure  and  pe 
rishable  the  remembrance  of  human  affairs,  that,  unless  attempts 
are  made  to  sketch  the  picture,  while  the  present  generation  is 
living,  the  likeness  will  be  for  ever  lost,  or  only  preserved  by  a 
vague  recollection ;  disguised,  perhaps,  by  the  whimsical  colour 
ings  of  a  creative  imagination. 

It  will,  doubtless,  hereafter  be  an  object  of  regret,  that  those 
who,  having  themselves  been  conspicuous  actors  on  the  theatre  of 
public  life,  and  who,  in  conjunction  with  a  knowledge  of  facts,  pos 
sess  abilities  to  paint  those  characters,  and  describe  those  events 
which,  during  the  progress  of  the  American  Revolution,  interested 
and  astonished  mankind,  should  feel  an  insuperable  reluctance  to 
assume  the  task — a  task  which,  if  executed  with  fidelity,  must, 
from  the  dignity  of  its  subject,  become  grateful  to  the  patriots  of 
all  nations,  and  profitable  in  example  to  the  remotest  posterity. 
Equally  severe  will  be  the  mortification  of  contemplating  the  reve 
ries  and  fictions  which  have  been  substituted  by  hacknied  writers 


246  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

in  the  place  of  historical  facts.  Nor  should  we  suppress  our  indig 
nation  against  that  class  of  professional  authors,  who,  placed  in 
the  vale  of  penury  and  obscurity,  at  an  immense  distance  from  the 
scenes  of  action,  and  all  opportunities  of  acquiring  the  necessary 
documents,  with  insufferable  effrontery,  obtrude  their  fallacious 
and  crude  performances  on  a  credulous  public.  Did  the  result  of 
their  lucubrations  terminate  only  in  relieving  their  own  distresses, 
or  gratifying  their  individual  vanity,  it  might  be  passed  in  silent 
contempt.  But  the  effect  is  extensive,  permanent,  and  pernicious. 
The  lie,*  however  improbable  or  monstrous,  which  has  once  as 
sumed  the  semblance  of  truth,  by  being  often  repeated  with  mi 
nute  and  plausible  particulars,  is,  at  length,  so  thoroughly  esta 
blished,  as  to  obtain  universal  credit,  defy  contradiction,  and  frus 
trate  every  effort  of  refutation.  Such  is  the  mischief,  such  are  the 
unhappy  consequences  on  the  bewildered  mind,  that  the  reader 
has  no  alternative,  but  to  become  the  dupe  of  his  credulity,  or  dis 
trust  the  veracity  of  almost  all  human  testimony.  After  having 
long  been  the  sport  of  fiction,  he  will,  perhaps,  probably  run  into 
the  opposite  extreme,  and  give  up  all  confidence  in  the  annals  of 
ancient  as  well  as  modern  times ;  and  thus  the  easy  believer  of 
fine  fables  and  marvellous  stories  will  find,  at  last,  his  historical 
faith  change  to  scepticism,  and  end  in  infidelity. 

The  numerous  errors  and  falsehoods  relative  to  the  birth  and 
achievements  of  Major-General  Putnam,  which  have  (at  a  for. 
mer  period)  been  circulated  with  assiduity  on  both  sides  of  the  At 
lantic,  and  the  uncertainty  which  appeared  to  prevail  with  respect 
to  his  real  character,!  first  produced  the  resolution  of  writing  this 

*  The  writer  had  here  particularly  in  his  eye  the  Rhapsody  palmed 
upon  the  public,  under  the  name  of  a  history,  by  a  certain  Frenchman, 
called  D'Auberteiul :  Perhaps  so  much  falsehood,  folly,  and  calumny 
was  never  before  accumulated  in  a  single  performance. 

t  The  following  lines  are  extracted  from  a  Poem,  entitled,  "  The  Pros* 
pect  of  America,"  written  by  the  late  ingenious  Dr.  Ladd, 

"  Hail  Putnam  !  hail  thou  venerable  name! 
"  Though  dark  oblivion  threats  thy  mighty  fame, 
"  It  threats  in  vain — for  long  shalt  thou  be  known, 
"  Who  first  in  virtue  and  in  battle  shone, 
"  When  fourscore  years  had  blanch'd  thy  laurel'd  head, 
"  Strong  in  thine  age,  the  flame  of  war  was  spread." 

On  ivbicb  Dr.  Ladd  made  this  note  : 

"  The  brave  Putnam  seems  to  have  been  almost  obscured  amidst  the 
"  glare  of  succeeding  worthies ;  but  his  early  and  gallant  services  entitle 
"  him  to  an  everlasting  remembrance." 

Other  bards  have  also  asserted  the  glory  of  this  venerable  veteran.     In 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  247 

essay  on  his  life,  and  induced  the  Editor  to  obtain*  materials  from 
that  hero  himself.  If  communications  of  such  authenticity,  if  per 
sonal  intimacy  as  an  aid-de-camp  to  that  General,  or  if  subsequent 
military  employments,  which  afforded  access  to  sources  f  of  intel- 

the  first  concise  review  of  the  principal  American  heroes  who  signalized 
themselves  in  the  last  war,  the  same  character  is  thus  represented : 
"  There  stood  stern  Putnam,  seam'd  with  many  a  scar, 
"  The  veteran  honours  of  an  early  war." 

The  Vision  of  Columbus,  Book  V. 

*  The  Editor  seizes,  with  eagerness,  an  opportunity  of  acknowleflging, 
his  obligations  to  Dr.  Albigence  Waldo,  who  was  so  obliging  as  to  com 
mit  to  writing  many  anecdotes,  communicated  to  him  by  General  Putnam, 
in  the  course  of  the  present  year. 

f  A  multitude  of  proofs  might  be  produced  to  demonstrate  that  military 
facts  cannot  always  be  accurately  known  but  by  the  Commander  in  Chief, 
and  his  confidential  officers.  The  Marquis  de  Chastelleux  (whose  op 
portunity  to  acquire  genuine  information,  respecting  those  parts  of  the 
American  war  which  he  hath  casually  mentioned,  was  better  than  that  of 
any  other  writer)  gives  an  account  of  a  grand  forage  which  General  Heath 
ordered  to  be  made  towards  King's-bridge  in  the  autumn  of  1780.  The 
Marquis,  who  was  present  when  the  detachment  marched,  and  to  whom 
General  Heath  showed  the  orders  that  were  given  to  General  Stark,  the 
commanding  officer  of  the  expedition,  observes,  that  he  had  never  seen,  in 
manuscript  or  print,  more  pertinent  instructions.  Now  the  fact  is,  that 
this  detachment,  under  the  pretext  of  a  forage,  was  intended  by  the  Com 
mander  in  Chief  to  co-operate  with  the  main  army  in  an  attempt  against 
the  enemy's  posts  on  York  Island ;  and  that  General  Heath  himself  was 
then  ignorant  of  the  real  design.  The  Commander  in  Chief  spent  a  whole 
campaign  in  ripening  this  project.  Boats,  mounted  on  travelling  carriages/ 
were  kept  constantly  with  the  army.  The  Marquis  de  la  Fayette,  at  the 
head  of  the  light  infantry,  was  to  have  made  the  attack  in  the  night  on 
Fort  Washington.  The  period  chosen  for  this  enterprize  was  the  very 
time  when  the  army  were  to  break  up  their  camp,  and  march  into  winter 
quarters ;  so  that  the  Commander  in  Chief,  moving  in  the  dusk  of  the 
evening,  would  have  been  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  with  his  whole 
force,  to  have  supported  the  attack.  The  cautious  manner  in  which  the 
co-operation  on  the  part  of  the  troops  sent  by  General  Heath,  on  the  pre 
tended  forage,  was  to  have  been  conducted,  will  be  understood  from  the 
following  secret  instructions. 

"  To  Brigadier-General  STARK. 

Head  Quarters,  Passaic-Falls,  Nov.  21,  1780. 
•"•  SIR, 

"  Colonel  Humphreys,  one  of  my  Aids-de-camp,  is  charged 
"  by  me,  with  orders  of  a  private  and  particular  nature,  which  he  is  to  de- 


248  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

ligence  not  open  to  others,  give  the  writer  any  advantages,  the 
unbiassed  mind  will  decide  how  far  they  exculpate  him  from  the 

"  liver  to  you,  and  which  you  are  to  obey.     He  will  inform  you  of  the  ne- 
"  cessity  of  this  mode  of  communication. 
"  I  am,  Sir,  &.c. 

"  G.  WASHINGTON." 

"  To  Lieutenant-Colonel  DAVID  HUMPHREYS,  A.  D.  Camp. 
"  SIR, 

"  You  are  immediately  to  proceed'  to  West-Point,  and 
"  communicate  the  business  committed  to  you,  in  confidence,  to  Major- 
"  General  Heath,  and  to  no  other  person  whatsoever ;  from  thence  you 
"  will  repair  to  the  detachment  at  the  White-Plains,  on  Friday  next,  tak- 
"  ing  measures  to  prevent  their  leaving  that  place  before  you  get  to 
"  them.  And,  in  the  course  of  the  succeeding  night,  you  may  inform  the 
"  commanding  officer  of  the  enterprize  in  contemplation  against  the 
"  enemy's  posts  on  York  Island. 

"  As  the  troops  are  constantly  to  lie  on  their  arms,  no  previous  notice 
"  should  be  given ;  but  they  may  be  put  in  motion  precisely  at  four  o'clock, 
"  and  commence  a  slow  and  regular  march  to  King's-bridge,  until  they 
"  shall  discover,  or  be  informed  of  the  concerted  signals  being  made — when 
"  the  march  must  be  pressed  with  the  greatest  rapidity.  Parties  of  horse 
"  should  be  sent  forward  to  keep  a  look  out  for  the  signals. 

"  Although  the  main  body  ought  to  be  kept  compact,  patrcles  of  horse 
"  and  light  parties  might  be  sent  towards  East  and  West  Chester:  and 
"  upon  the  signals  being  discovered,  Sheldon's  regiment,  and  the  Connec- 
"  ticut  State  troops  (which  may  also  be  put  in  motion  as  soon  as  the  or- 
"  ders  can  be  communicated  after  four  o'clock)  should  be  pushed  forward 
•'  to  intercept  any  of  the  enemy  who  may  attempt  to  gain  Frog's  Neck, 
"  and  to  cut  off  the  Refugee-corps  at  Morissania.  A  few  men,  with 
"  some  address,  may  spread  such  an  alarm  as  to  prevent  an  attempt  of 
"  the  enemy  to  retreat  to  Frog's  Neck,  from  an  apprehension  of  sur- 
•*  rounding  parties. 

"  You  will  communicate  these  instructions  to  the  commanding  officer 
"  of  the  detachment,  who,  upon  his  approach  to  King's-bridge,  will  re- 
•*  ceive  orders  from  me  as  early  as  possible. 

"  Should  the  signals  not  be  discovered,  the  troops  will  halt  at  least  six 
"  miles  from  the  bridge,  until  further  intelligence  can  be  obtained. 

"  The  absolute  necessity  of  the  most  perfect  secrecy  is  the  occasion  of 
"  communicating  my  orders  through  this  channel. 

"  Given  at  Head  Quarters,  Passaic- Falls,  this  22d  day  of  Nov.  1780. 

"  G.  WASHINGTON." 

Never  was  a  plan  better  arranged:  and  never  did  circumstances  pro 
mise  more  sure  or  complete  success.  The  British  were  not  only  unalarmed, 
but  our  own  troops  were  likewise  entirely  misguided  in  their  expectations. 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  249 

imputations  of  that  officiousness,  ignorance  and  presumption, 
which,  in  others,  have  been  reprehended  with  severity.-  He  only 
Wishes  that  a  premature  and  unfavourable  construction  may  not 
be  formed  of  his  motive  or  object.  Should  this  essay  have  any  in 
fluence  in  correcting  mistakes,  or  rescuing  from  oblivion  the  ac 
tions  of  that  distinguished  veteran ;  should  it  create  an  emulation 
to  copy  his  domestic,  manly  and  heroic  virtues ;  or  should  it 
prompt  some  more  skilful  hand  to  pourtray  the  illustrious  groupe 
of  patriots,  sages,  and  heroes,  who  have  guided  our  councils, 
fought  our  battles,  and  adorned  the  memorable  epocha  of  inde 
pendence,  it  will  be  an  ample  compensation  for  the  trouble,  and 
fcxcite  a  consolatory  reflection  through  every  vicissitude  of  life. 

ISRAEL  PUTNAM,  who,  through  a  regular  gradation  of  pro 
motion,  became  the  senior  Major-General  in  the  army  of  the 
United  States,  and  next  in  rank  to  General  Washington,  was 
born  at  Salem,  in  the  Province  (now  State)  of  Massachusetts, 
on  the  7th  day  of  January,  1718.  His  father,  Captain  Joseph 
Putnam,  was  the  son  of  Mr.  John  Putnam,  who,  with  two  bro 
thers,  came  from  the  south  of  England,  and  were  among  the 
.first  settlers  of  Salem. 

When  we  thus  behold  a  person,  from  the  humble  walks  of  life, 
starting  unnoticed  in  the  career  of  fame,  and,  by  an  undeviating 
progress  through  a  life  of  honour,  arriving  at  the  highest  dignity 
in  the  state,  curiosity  is  strongly  excited,  and  philosophy  loves 
to  trace  the  path  of  glory  from  the  cradle  of  obscurity  to  the 
summit  of  elevation. 

Although  our  ancestors,  the  first  settlers  of  this  land,  amidst 
the  extreme  pressure  of  poverty  and  danger,  early  instituted 
schools  for  the  education  of  youth  designed  for  the  learned  pro- 

The  accidental  intervention  of  some  vessels  prevented,  at  this  time,  the 
attempt;  which  was  more  than  once  resumed  afterwards.  Notwithstand 
ing  this  favourite  project  was  not  ultimately  effected,  it  was  evidently  not 
less  bold  in  conception  or  feasible  in  accomplishment,  than  that  attempted 
so  successfully  at  Trenton,  or  than  that  which  was  brought  to  so  glori 
ous  an  issue  in  the  successful  siege  of  York-Town. 

It  is  true,  the  Marquis  de  Chastelleux,  whose  professional  knowledge 
and  fountain-head  intelligence  have  enabled  him  to  describe  several 
actions  better  than  they  are  elsewhere  described,  speaks  in  this  instance 
of  an  ulterior  object ;  and  says,  that  secrets  were  preserved  more  inviola 
bly  in  the  American  than  in  the  French  army.  His  words  are: 

"  C'est  que  le  secret  est  garde  tres  exactement  a  1'armee  Americaine; 
"  peu  de  pe  sonnes  ont  part  a  la  confiance  du  Chef,  et  en  general  on  y 
"  parle  moins  que  dans  les  armees  Francoises  des  operations  de  la  guerre, 
"  et  de  ce  que  1'on  appelle  chez  nous  les  Nouvelles." 

2K 


350  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

fessions,  yet  it  was  thought  sufficient  to  instruct  those  destined  t» 
,  labour  on  the  earth,  in  reading,  writing,  and  such  rudiments  of 
arithmetic  as  might  be  requisite  for  keeping  the  accounts  of  their 
little  transactions  with  each  other.  Few  farmers'  sons  had  more 
advantages,  none  less.  In  this  state  of  mediocrity  it  was  the  lot 
of  young  Putnam  to  be  placed.  His  early  instruction  was  not 
considerable,  and  the  active  scenes  of  life  in  which  he  was  after 
wards  engaged,  prevented  the  opportunity  of  great  literary  im 
provement.  His  numerous  original  letters,  though  deficient  in 
scholastic  accuracy,  always  display  the  goodness  of  his  heart,  and 
frequently  the  strength  of  his  native  genius.  He  had  a  certain 
laconic  mode  of  expression,  and  an  unaffected  epigrammatic  turn, 
which  characterised  most  of  his  writings. 

To  compensate  partially  for  the  deficiency  of  education  (though 
nothing  can  remove  or  counterbalance  the  inconveniencies  expe 
rienced  from  it  in  public  life)  he  derived  from  his  parents  the 
source  of  innumerable  advantages  in  the  stamina  of  a  vigorous 
constitution.  Nature,  liberal  in  bestowing  on  him  bodily  strength, 
hardiness,  and  activity,  was  by  no  means  parsimonious  in  mental 
endowments.  While  we  leave  the  qualities  of  the  understanding 
to  be  developed  in  the  process  of  life,  it  may  not  be  improper,  in, 
this  place,  to  designate  some  of  the  circumstances  which  were 
calculated  to  distinguish  him  afterwards  as  a  parti  z  an  officer. 

Courage,  enterprize,  activity,  and  perseverance  were  the  first 
characteristics  of  his  mind.  There  is  a  kind  of  mechanical  cou 
rage,  the  offspring  of  pride,  habit,  or  discipline,  that  may  push 
a  coward  not  only  to  perform  his  duty,  but  even  to  venture  on 
acts  of  heroism.  Putnam's  courage  was  of  a  different  species. 
It  was  ever  attended  with  a  serenity  of  soiil,  a  clearness  of  con 
ception,  a  degree  of  self-possession,  and  a  superiority  to  all  the 
vicissitudes  of  fortune,  entirely  distinct  from  any  thing  that  can 
be  produced  by  the  ferment  of  blood,  and  flutter  of  spirits ;  which, 
not  unfrequently,  precipitate  men  to  action,  when  stimulated  by 
intoxication  or  some  other  transient  exhilaration.  The  heroic 
character,  thus  founded  on  constitution  and  animal  spirits,  che 
rished  by  education  and  ideas  of  personal  freedom,  confirmed  by 
temperance  and  habits  of  exercise,  was  completed  by  the  dictate 
of  reason,  the  love  cf  his  country,  and  an  invincible  sense  of  duty. 
Such  were  the  qualities  and  principles  that  enabled  him  to  meet 
unappalled,  the  shafts  of  adversity,  and  to  pass  in  triumph 
through  the  furnace  of  affliction. 

His  disposition  was  as  frank  and  generous  as  his  mind  was 
fearless  and  independent.  He  disguised  nothing ;  indeed  he  seemed 
incapable  of  disguise.  Perhaps,  in  the  intercourse  he  was  ulti- 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  POTNAM.  251 

mately  obliged  to  have  with  an  artful  world,  his  sincerity,  on 
some  occasions,  outwent  his  discretion.  Although  he  had  too 
much  suavity  in  his  nature  to  commence  a  quarrel,  he  had  too 
much  sensibility  not  to  feel,  and  too  much  honour  not  to  resent  an 
intended  insult.  The  first  time  he  went  to  Boston  he  was  in 
sulted  for  his  rusticity  by  a  boy  of  twice  his  size  and  age ;  after 
bearing  the  sarcasms  until  his  patience  was  worn  out,  he  chal 
lenged,  engaged,  and  vanquished  his  unmannerly  antagonist,  to 
the  great  diversion  of  a  crowd  of  spectators.  While  a  stripling, 
his  ambition  was  to  perform  the  labour  of  a  man,  and  to  excel  in 
athletic  diversions.  In  that  rude,  but  masculine  age,  whenever 
the  village-youth  assembled  on  their  usual  occasions  of  festivity, 
pitching  the  bar,  running,  leaping,  and  wrestling  were  favourite 
amusements.  At  such  gymnastic  exercises  (in  which,  during  the 
heroic  times  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome,  conquest  was  consi 
dered  as  the  promise  of  future  military  fame)  he  bore  the  palm 
from  almost  every  ring. 

Before  the  refinements  of  luxury,  and  the  consequent  increase 
of  expenses  had  rendered  the  maintenance  of  a  family  inconveni 
ent  or  burdensome  in  America,  the  sexes  entered  into  matrimony 
at  an  early  age.  Competence,  attainable  by  all,  was  the  limit  of 
pursuit.  After  the  hardships  of  making  a  new  settlement  were 
overcome,  and  the  evils  of  penury  removed,  the  inhabitants 
enjoyed,  in  the  lot  of  equality,  innocence  and  security,  scenes 
equally  delightful  with  those  pictured  by  the  glowing  imagination 
of  the  poets  in  their  favourite  pastoral  life,  or  fabulous  golden  age. 
Indeed,  the  condition  of  mankind  was  never  more  enviable.  Nei 
ther  disparity  of  age  and  fortune,  nor  schemes  of  ambition  and 
grandeur,  nor  the  pride  and  avarice  of  high-minded  and  merce 
nary  parents,  interposed  those  obstacles  to  the  union  of  congenial 
souls,  which  frequently  in  more  polished  society  prevent,  imbitter 
or  destroy  all  the  felicity  of  the  connubial  state.  Mr.  Putnam, 
before  he  attained  the  twenty-first  year  of  his  age,  married  Miss 
Pope,  daughter  of  Mr.  John  Pope,  of  Salem,  by  whom  he  had  ten 
children,  seven  of  whom  are  still  living.  He  lost  the  wife  of  his 
youth  in  1764.  Some  time  after  he  married  Mrs.  Gardiner,  wi 
dow  of  the  late  Mr.  Gardiner,  of  Gardiner's  Island,  by  whom  he 
had  no  issue.  She  died  in  1777. 

In  the  year  1739,  he  removed  from  Salem  to  Pomfret,  an  inland 
fertile  town  in  Connecticut,  forty  miles  east  of  Hartford.  Having 
here  purchased  a  considerable  tract  of  land,  he  applied  himself 
successfully  to  agriculture. 

The  first  years,  on  a  new  farm,  ai-e  not,  however,  exempt  from 
disasters  and  disappointments,  which  can  only  be  remedied  by 


352  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

stubborn  and  patient  industry.  Our  farmer,  sufficiently  occupied 
in  building  an  house  and  barn,  felling  woods,  making  fences,  sow 
ing  grain,  planting  orchards,  and  taking  care  of  his  stock,  had  tq 
encounter,  in  turn,  the  calamities  occasioned  by  drought  in  sum 
mer,  blast  in  harvest,  loss  of  cattle  in  winter,  and  the  desolation 
of  his  sheep-fold  by  wolves.  In  one  night  he  had  seventy  fine  sheep 
and  goats  killed,  besides  many  lambs  and  kids  wounded.  This 
havock  was  committed  by  a  she -wolf,  which,  with  her  annual  whelps, 
had  for  several  years  infested  the  vicinity.  The  young  were  com^ 
monly  destroyed  by  the  vigilance  of  the  hunters,  but  the  old  one 
•was  too  sagacious  to  come  within  reach  of  gun-shot :  upon  being 
closely  pursued,  she  would  generally  fly  to  the  western  woods,  and 
return  the  next  winter  with  another  litter  of  whelps. 

This  wolf,  at  length,  became  such  an  intolerable  nuisance  that 
Mr.  Putnam  entered  into  a  combination  with  five  of  his  neighbours 
to  hunt  alternately  until  they  could  destroy  her.  Two,  by  rota 
tion,  were  to  be  constantly  in  pursuit.  It  was  known,  that,  having 
lost  the  toes  from  one  foot,  by  a  steel-trap,  she  made  one  track 
shorter  than  the  other.  By  this  vestige  the  pursuers  recognized, 
in  a  light  snow,  the  route  of  this  pernicious  animal.  Having  fol 
lowed  her  to  Connecticut  river,  and  found  she  had  turned  back  in 
a  direct  course  towards  Pomfret,  they  immediately  returned,  and 
by  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning  the  blood-hounds  had  driven  her 
into  a  den,  about  three  miles  distant  from  the  house  of  Mr.  Put 
nam  :  The  people  soon  collected  with  dogs,  guns,  straw,  fire,  and 
sulphur,  to  attack  the  common  enemy.  Witli  this  apparatus,  se 
veral  unsuccessful  efforts  were  made  to  force  her  from  the  den. 
The  hounds  came  back  badly  wounded,  and  refused  to  return.  The 
smoke  of  blazing  straw  had  no  effect.  Nor  did  the  fumes  of  burnt 
brimstone,  with  which  the  cavern  was  filled,  compel  her  to  quit 
the  retirement.  Wearied  with  such  fruitless  attempts,  (which  had 
brought  the  time  to  ten  o'clock  at  night)  Mr.  Putnam  tried  once 
more  to  make  his  dog  enter,  but  in  vain.  He  proposed  to  his 
negro  man  to  go  clown  into  the  cavern  and  shoot  the  wolf:  the  ne 
gro  declined  the  hazardous  service.  Then  it  was  that  the  mas 
ter,  angry  at  the  disappointment,  and  declaring  that  he  was 
ashamed  to  have  a  coward  in  his  family,  resolved  himself  to  de 
stroy  the  ferocious  beast,  lest  she  should  escape  through  some  un 
known  fissure  of  the  rock.  His  neighbours  strongly  remonstrated 
against  the  perilous  enterprize:  but  he,  knowing  that  wild  animals 
were  intimidated  by  fire,  and  having  provided  several  strips  of 
birch-bark,  the  only  combustible  material  which  he  could  obtain 
that  would  afford  light  in  this  deep  and  darksome  cave,  prepared 
for  his  descent.  Having,  accordingly,  divested  himself  of  his  coat 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  253 

and  waistcoat,  and  having  a  long  rope  fastened  round  his  legs,  by 
which  he  might  be  pulled  back,  at  a  concerted  signal,  he  entered 
head-foremost,  with  the  blazing  torch  in  his  hand. 

The  aperture  of  the  den,  on  the  east  side  of  a  very  high  ledge 
of  rocks,  is  about  two  feet  square ;  from  thence  it  descends  ob 
liquely  fifteen  feet,  then  running  horizontally  about  ten  more,  it 
ascends  gradually  sixteen  feet  towards  its  termination.  The  sides 
of  this  subterraneous  cavity  are  composed  of  smooth  and  solid 
rocks,  which  seem  to  have  been  divided  from  each  other  by  some 
former  earthquake.  The  top  and  bottom  are  also  of  stone,  and  the 
entrance,  in  winter,  being  covered  with  ice,  is  exceedingly  slip 
pery.  It  is  in  no  place  high  enough  for  a  man  to  raise  himself  up 
right,  nor  in  any  part  more  than  three  feet  in  width. 

Having  groped  his  passage  to  the  horizontal  part  of  the  den,  the 
most  terrifying  darkness  appeared  in  front  of  the  dim  circle  of 
light  afforded  by  his  torch.     It  was  silent  as  the  house  of  death. 
None  but  monsters  of  the  desert  had  ever  before  explored  this  so 
litary  mansion  of  horror.  He,  cautiously  proceeding  omvard,  came 
to  the  ascent,  which  he  slowly  mounted  on  his  hands  and  knees, 
until  he  discovered  the  glaring  eye-balls  of  the  wolf,  who  was  sit 
ting  at  the  extremity  of  the  cavern.     Started  at  the  sight  of  fire, 
she  gnashed  her  teeth,  and  gave  a  sullen  growl.  As  soon  as  he  had 
made  the  necessary  discovery,  he  kicked  the  rope  as  a  signal  for 
pulling  him  out.     The  people  at  the  mouth  of  the  den,  who  had 
listened  with  painful  anxiety,  hearing  the  growling  of  the  wolf,  and 
supposing  their  friend  to  be  in  the  most  imminent  danger,  drew 
him  forth  with  such  celerityrthat  his  shirt  was  stripped  over  his 
head,  and  his  skin  severely  lacerated.     After  he  had  adjusted  his 
clothes,  and  loaded  his  gun  with  nine  buck-shot,  holding  a  torch  in 
one  hand,  and  the  musquet  in  the  other,  he  descended  the  second 
time.     When  he  drew  nearer  than  before,  the  wolf,  assuming  a 
still  more  fierce  and  terrible  appearance,  howling,  rolling  her  eyes, 
snapping  her  teeth,  and  dropping  her  head  between  her  legs,  was 
evidently  in  the  attitude,  and  on  the  point  of  springing  at  him.    At 
the  critical  instant  he  levelled  and  fired  at  her  head.     Stunned 
with  the  shock,  and  suffocated  with  the  smoke,  he  immediately- 
found  himself  drawn  out  of  the  cave.     But  having  refreshed  him 
self,  and  permitted  the  smoke  to  dissipate,  he  went  down  the  third 
time.     Once  more  he  came  within  sight  of  the  wolf,  who  appear 
ing  very  passive,  he  applied  the  torch  to  her  nose ;  and  perceiv 
ing  her  dead,  he  took  hold  of  her  eai*s,  and  then  kicking  the  rope 
(still  tied  round  his  legs)  the  people  above,  with  no  small  exulta 
tion,  dragged  them  both  out  together. 


254  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

I  have  offered  these  facts  in  greater  detail,  because  they  contain 
a  display  of  character;  and  because  they  have  been  erroneously 
related  in  several  European  publications,  and  very  much  muti 
lated  in  the  history  of  Connecticut,  a  work  as  replete  "with  false 
hood  as  destitute  of  genius,  lately  printed  in  London. 

Prosperity,  at  length,  began  to  attend  the  agricultural  affairs  of 
Mr.  Putnam.  He  was  acknowledged  to  be  a  skilful  and  indefa 
tigable  manager.  His  fields  were  mostly  enclosed  with  stone 
walls.  His  crops  commonly  succeeded,  because  the  land  was  well 
tilled  and  manured.  His  pastures  and  meadows  became  luxuriant. 
His  cattle  were  of  the  best  breed,  and  in  good  order.  His  garden 
and  fruit-trees  prolific.  With  the  avails  of  the  surplusage  of  his 
produce,  foreign  articles  were  purchased.  Within  doors  he  found 
the  compensation  of  his  labours  in  the  plenty  of  excellent  provi 
sions,  as  well  as  in  the  happiness  of  domestic  society. 

A  more  particular  description  of  his  transition  from  narrow  to 
easy  circumstances  might  be  given ;  but  the  mind  that  shall  have 
acquired  an  idea  of  the  habits  of  labour  and  simplicity,  to  which 
the  industrious  colonists  were  accustomed,  will  readily  supply  the 
omission.  The  effect  of  this  gradual  acquisition  of  property,  ge 
nerally  favourable  to  individual  virtue  and  public  felicity,  should 
not,  however,  be  passed  over  in  silence.  If  there  is  something  fas 
cinating  in  the  charms  of  a  country  life,  from  the  contemplation  of 
beautiful  landscapes,  there  is  likewise  something  elevating  to  the 
soul,  in  the  consciousness  of  being  lord  of  the  soil,  and  having  the 
power  of  creating  them.  The  man  can  scarcely  be  guilty  of  a  sor 
did  action,  or  even  descend  to  an  ungenerous  thought,  who,  re 
moved  from  the  apprehension  of  want,  sees  his  farm  daily  melio 
rating  and  assuming  whatever  appearance  he  pleases  to  prescribe. 
This  situation  converts  the  farmer  into  a  species  of  rural  philoso 
pher,  by  inspiring  an  honest  pride  in  his  rank  as  a  fi'eeman,  flat 
tering  the  natural  propensity  for  personal  independence,  and  nou 
rishing  an  unlimited  hospitality  and  philanthropy  in  his  social  cha 
racter. 

But  the  time  had  now  arrived  which  was  to  turn  the  instru 
ments  of  husbandry  into  weapons  of  hostility,  and  to  exchange 
the  hunting  of  wolves,  who  had  ravaged  the  bheep-folds,  for  the 
pursuit  after  savages,  who  had  desolated  the  frontiers.  Mr.  Put 
nam  was  about  thirty-seven  years  old  when  the  war  between  England 
and  France,  which  preceded  the  last,  broke  out  in  America.  His 
reputation  must  have  been  favourably  known  to  the  government, 
since  among  the  first  troops  that  were  levied  by  Connecticut  in 
1755,  he  was  appointed  to  the  command  of  a  company  in  Lyman's 
regiment  of  Provincials.  I  have  mentioned  his  age  at  this  period 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  255 

expressly  to  obviate  a  prevalent  opinion,  that  he  was  far  advanced 
in  life  when  he  commenced  his  military  service. 

As  he  was  extremely  popular,  he  found  no  difficulty  in  enlist 
ing  his  complement  of  recruits  from  the  most  hardy,  enterpriz- 
ing,  and  respectable  young  men  of  his  neighbourhood.  The  regi 
ment  joined  the  army,  at  the  opening  of  the  campaign,  not  far 
distant  from  Crown-Point.  Soon  after  his  arrival  at  camp,  he 
became  acquainted  with  the  famous  partizan  Captain,  afterwards 
Major  Rogers,  with  whom  he  was  frequently  associated  in  tra 
versing  the  wilderness,  reconnoitering  the  enemy's  lines,  gaining 
intelligence,  and  taking  straggling  prisoners,  as  well  as  in  beat 
ing  up  the  quarters  and  surprising  the  advanced  pickets  of  their 
army.  For  these  operations,  a  corps  of  rangers  were  formed 
from  the  irregulars.  The  first  time  Rogers  and  Putnam  were 
detached  with  a  party  of  these  light  troops,  it  was  the  fortune  of 
the  latter  to  preserve,  with  his  own  hand,  the  life  of  the  former, 
and  to  cement  their  friendship  with  the  blood  of  one  of  their 
enemies. 

The  object  of  this  expedition  was  to  obtain  an  accurate  know 
ledge  of  the  position  and  state  of  the  works  at  Crown-Point.  It 
was  impracticable  to  approach  with  their  party  near  enough  for 
this  purpose,  without  being  discovered.  Alone,  the  undertaking 
was  sufficiently  hazardous,  on  account  of  the  swarms  of  hostile 
Indians  who  infested  the  woods.  Our  two  partizans,  however, 
left  all  their  men  at  a  convenient  distance,  with  strict  orders  to 
continue  concealed  until  their  return.  Having  thus  cautiously 
taken  their  arrangements,  they  advanced  with  the  profoundest 
silence  in  the  evening;  and  lay,  during  the  night,  contiguous  to 
the  fortress.  Early  in  the  morning  they  approached  so  close  as 
to  be  able  to  give  satisfactory  information  to  the  General  who  had 
sent  them,  on  the  several  points  to  which  their  attention  had  been 
directed:  but  Captain  Rogers,  being  at  a  little  distance  from 
Captain  Putnam,  fortuitously  met  a  stout  Frenchman,  who  in 
stantly  seized  his  fuzee  with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  at 
tempted  to  stab  him,  while  he  called  to  an  adjacent  guard  for 
assistance.  The  guard  answered.  Putnam,  perceiving  the  im 
minent  danger  of  his  friend,  and  that  no  time  was  to  be  lost,  or 
farther  alarm  given  by  firing,  ran  rapidly  to  them,  while  they 
were  yet  struggling,  and  with  the  but-end  of  his  piece,  laid  the 
Frenchman  dead  at  his  feet.  The  partizans,  to  elude  pursuit, 
precipitated  their  flight,  joined  the  party,  and  returned  without 
loss  to  the  encampment.  Not  many  occasions  occurred  for  par 
tizans  to  display  their  talents  in  the  course  of  this  summer.  The 
war  was  chequered  with  various  fortune  in  different  quarters — 


2*6  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

such  as  the  total  defeat  of  General  Braddock,  and  the  splendid 
victory  of  Sir  William  Johnson  over  the  French  troops,  com 
manded  by  the  Baron  Dieskau.  The  brilliancy  of  this  success  was 
necessary  to  console  the  Americans  for  the  disgrace  of  that  disaster. 
Here  I  might,  indeed,  take  a  pride  in  contrasting  the  conduct  of 
the  British  Regulars,  who  had  been  ambuscaded  on  the  Mononga- 
hela,  with  that  of  the  Provincials  (under  Johnson)  who,  having 
been  attacked  in  their  lines,  gallantly  repulsed  the  enemy,  and 
took  their  General  prisoner,  did  I  consider  myself  at  liberty  to 
swell  this  essay  with  reflections  on  events,  in  which  Putnam  Avas 
not  directly  concerned.  The  time  for  which  the  colonial  troops 
engaged  to  serve  terminated  with  the  campaign.  Putnam  was 
re -appointed,  and  again  took  the  field  in  1756. 

Few  are  so  ignorant  of  war  as  not  to  know,  that  military  ad 
ventures  in  the  night  are  always  extremely  liable  to  accidents. 
Captain  Putnam  having  been  commanded  to  reconnoitre  the  ene 
my's  camp  at  the  Ovens,  near  Ticonderoga,  took  the  brave  Lieu 
tenant  Robert  Durkee  as  his  companion.     In  attempting  to  exe 
cute  these  orders,  he  narrowly  missed  being  taken  himself  in  the 
first  instance,  and  killing  his  friend  in  the  second.     It  was  cus 
tomary  for  the  British  and  Provincial  troops  to  place  their  fires 
round  their  camp,  which  frequently  exposed  them  to  the  enemy's 
scouts  and  patroles.     A  contrary  practice,  then  unknown  in  the 
English  army,  prevailed  among  the  French  and  Indians.     The 
plan  was  much  more  rational ;  they  kept  their  fires  in  the  centre, 
lodged  their  men  circularly  at  a  distance,  and  posted  their  cen- 
tinels  in  the  surrounding   darkness.     Our  partizans  approached 
the  camp — and  supposing  the  Gentries  were  within  the  circle  of 
fires,  crept  upon  their  hands  and  knees  with  the  greatest  pos* 
sible  caution,  until,  to  their  utter  astonishment,  they  found  them 
selves  in  the  thickest  of  the  enemy.     The  centinels,  discovering 
them,  fired,  and  slightly  wounded  Durkee  in  the  thigh.     He  and 
Putnam  had  no  alternative.     They  fled.     The  latter  being  fore 
most,  and  scarcely  able  to  see  his  hand  before  him,  soon  plunged 
into  a  clay-pit.     Durkee,  almost  at  the  identical  moment,  came 
tumbling  after.     Putnam,  by  no  means  pleased  at  finding  a  com-> 
panion,  and  believing  him  to  be  one  of  the  enemy,  lifted  his  to 
mahawk  to  give  the  deadly  blow — when  Durkee  (who  hacl  fol 
lowed  so    closely  as   to  know  him)   inquired  whether    he    had 
escaped  unhurt.    Captain  Putnam,  instantly  recognizing  the  voice, 
dropped  his  weapon;    and  both,   springing  from  the  pit,    made 
good  their  retreat  to  the  neighbouring  ledges,  amidst  a  shower  of 
random  shot.     There  they  betook  themselves  to  a  large  log,  by 
the  side  of  which  they  lodged  the  remainder  of  the  night.     Before 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  257 

they  lay  down,  Captain  Putnam  said  he  had  a  little  rum  in  his 
canteen,  which  could  never  be  more  acceptable  or  necessary ;  but, 
on  examining  the  canteen,  which  hung  under  his  arm,  he  found 
the  enemy  had  pierced  it  with  their  balls,  and  that  there  was  not 
a  drop  of  liquor  left.  The  next  day  he  found  fourteen  bullet 
holes  in  his  blanket. 

In  the  same  summer,  a  body  of  the  enemy,  consisting  of  six 
hundred  men,  attacked  the  baggage  and  provision  waggons  at  a 
place  called  the  Half-Way-Brook;  it  being  equi-distant  from  Fort 
Edward  and  the  south  end  of  Lake  George.  Having  killed  the 
oxen,  and  plundered  the  waggons,  they  retreated  with  their  booty 
without  having  met  with  such  resistance  as  might  have  been  ex 
pected  from  the  strength  of  the  escort.  General  Webb,  upon  re 
ceiving  intelligence  of  this  disaster,  ordered  the  Captains  Putnam 
and  Rogers  "  to  take  one  hundred  volunteers  in  boats,  with  two 
"  wall-pieces,  and  two  blunderbusses,  and  to  proceed  down  Lake 
"  George  to  a  certain  point,  there  to  leave  the  batteaux  un- 
"  der  a  proper  guai'd,  and  thence  to  cross  by  land,  so  as  to  ha- 
"  rass,  and,  if  practicable,  intei-cept  the  retreating  enemy  at  the 
"  Narrows."  These  orders  were  executed  with  so  much  punctu 
ality,  that  the  party  arrived  at  the  destined  place  half  an  hour  be 
fore  the  hostile  boats  came  in  view.  Here  they  waited,  under  co 
ver,  until  the  enemy  (ignorant  of  these  proceedings)  entered  the 
Narrows,  with  their  batteaux  loaded  with  plunder.  Then  the  vo 
lunteers  poured  upon  them  volley  after  volley,  killed  many  of  the 
oarsmen,  sunk  a  number  of  the  batteaux,  and  would  soon  have  de 
stroyed  the  whole  body  of  the  enemy,  had  not  the  unusual  preci 
pitancy  of  their  passage  (favoured  by  the  wind)  carried  them 
through  the  Narrows  into  the  wide  part  of  South-Bay,  where  they 
were  out  of  the  reach  of  musket-shot.  The  shattered  remnant  of 
the  little  fleet  soon  arrived  at  Ticonderoga,  and  gave  information 
that  Putnam  and  Rogers  were  at  the  Narrows.  A  fresh  party 
was  instantly  detached  to  cut  them  in  pieces,  on  their  return  to 
Fort  Edward.  Our  partizans,  sensible  of  the  probability  of  such 
an  attempt,  and  being  full  twenty  miles  from  their  boats,  strained 
every  nerve  to  reach  them  as  soon  as  possible ;  which  they  ef 
fected  the  same  night.  Next  day,  when  they  had  returned  as  far 
as  Sabbath-Day-Point,  they  discovered,  on  shore,  the  before- 
mentioned  detachment  of  three  hundred  men,  who  had  passed 
them  in  the  night,  and  who  now,  on  perceiving  our  party,  took 
to  their  boats  with  the  greatest  alacrity,  and  rowed  out  to  give  bat 
tle.  They  advanced  in  line,  maintaining  a  good  mein,  and  feli 
citating  themselves  upon  the  prospect  of  an  easy  conquest,  from  the 
great  superiority  of  their  numbers.  Flushed  with  these  expecta« 

2L 


J58  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

tions,  they  were  permitted  to  come  within  pistol-shot  before  a  gun 
was  fired.  At  once  the  wall-pieces  and  blunderbusses,  which  had 
been  brought  to  rake  them  in  the  most  vulnerable  point,  were  dis 
charged.  As  no  such  reception  had  been  foreseen,  the  assailants 
were  thrown  into  the  utmost  disorder.  Their  terror  and  confu 
sion  were  greatly  increased  by  a  well-directed  and  most  destruc 
tive  fire  of  the  small  arms.  The  larger  pieces  being  re-loacLed, 
without  annoyance,  continued,  alternately  with  the  musketry,  to 
make  dreadful  havock,  until  the  rout  was  completed,  and  the 
enemy  driven  back  to  Ticonderoga.  In  this  action,  one  of  the 
bark  canoes  contained  twenty  Indians,  of  whom  fifteen  were  killed. 
Great  numbers,  from  other  boats,  both  of  French  and  Indians,  were 
seen  to  fall  overboard :  but  the  account  of  their  total  loss  could  ne 
ver  be  ascertained.  Rogers  and  Putnam  had  but  one  man  killed, 
and  two  slightly  wounded.  They  now  landed  on  the  Point,  and 
having  refreshed  their  men  at  leisure,  returned  in  good  order  to 
the  British  camp. 

Soon  after  these  rencounters,  a  singular  kind  of  race  was  run 
by  our  nimble-footed  Provincial  and  an  active  young  Frenchman. 
The  liberty  of  each  was  by  turns  at  stake.  General  Webb,  want 
ing  a  prisoner  for  the  sake  of  intelligence,  sent  Captain  Putnam, 
with  five  men,  to  procure  one.  The  Captain  concealed  himself  near 
the  road  which  leads  from  Ticonderoga  to  the  Ovens,  His  men 
seemed  fond  of  showing  themselves,  which  unsoldier-like  conduct 
he  prohibited  with  the  severest  reprehension.  This  rebuke  they 
imputed  to  unnecessary  fear.  The  observation  is  as  true  as  vulgar, 
that  persons  distinguishable  for  temerity,  when  there  is  no  appa 
rent  danger,  are  generally  poltroons  whenever  danger  approaches. 
They  had  not  lain  long  in  the  high  grass  before  a  Frenchman 
and  an  Indian  passed — the  Indian  was  considerably  in  advance. 
As  soon  as  the  former  had  gone  by,  Putnam,  relying  on  the  fide 
lity  of  his  men,  sprang  up,  ran,  and  ordered  them  to  follow.  Af 
ter  running  about  thirty  rods,  he  seized  the  Frenchman  by  the 
shoulders,  and  forced  himv  to  surrender  :  But  his  prisoner,  look 
ing  round,  perceiving  no  other  enemy,  and  knowing  the  Indian 
would  be  ready  in  a  moment  to  assist  him,  began  to  make  an  ob 
stinate  resistance.  Putnam,  finding  himself  betrayed  by  his  men 
into  a  perilous  dilemma,  let  go  his  hold,  stepped  back  and  snap 
ped  his  piece,  which  was  levelled  at  the  Frenchman's  breast.  It 
missed  fire.  Upon  this  he  thought  it  most  prudent  to  retreat. 
The  Frenchman,  in  turn,  chased  him  back  to  his  men,  who,  at 
last,  raised  themselves  from  the  grass  ;  which  his  pursuer  espying 
in  good  time  for  himself,  made  his  escape.  Putnam,  mortified 
that  these  men  had  frustrated  his  success,  dismissed  them  with 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  259 

disgrace  ;  and  not  long  after  accomplished  his  object.  Such  little 
feats  as  the  capture  of  a  single  prisoner  may  be  of  infinitely  more 
consequence  than  some,  who  are  unacquainted  with  military  af 
fairs,  would  be  apt  to  imagine.  In  a  country  covered  with  woods, 
like  that  part  of  America,  then  the  seat  of  war,  the  difficulty  of 
procuring,  and  the  importance  of  possessing  good  intelligence,  can 
scarcely  be  conceived  even  by  European  commanders.  They, 
however,  who  know  its  value,  will  not  appreciate  lightly  the  ser» 
vices  of  an  able  partizan. 

Nothing  worthy  of  remark  happened  during  this  campaign,  ex 
cept  the  loss  of  Oswego.  That  fort,  which  had  been  built  by  Ge 
neral  Shirley,  to  protect  the  peltry  trade,  cover  the  country  on  the 
Mohawk-River,  and  facilitate  an  invasion  of  Canada,  by  Fronte- 
nac  and  Niagara,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  with  a  garri 
son  of  sixteen  hundred  men,  and  one  hundred  pieces  of  cannon. 

The  active  services  of  Captain  Putnam,  on  every  occasion,  at 
tracted  the  admiration  of  the  public,  and  induced  the  Legislature 
of  Connecticut  to  promote  him  to  a  majority  in  1757. 

Lord  London  was  then  Commander  in  Chief  of  the  British  for 
ces  in  America.  The  expedition  against  Crown-Point,  which, 
from  the  commencement  of  hostilities,  had  been  in  contemplation, 
seemed  to  give  place  to  a  more  important  operation  that  was  me 
ditated  against  Louisbourg.  But  the  arrival  of  the  Brest  squadron 
at  that  place  prevented  the  attempt;  and  the  loss  of  Fort  William 
Henry  served  to  class  this  with  the  two  former  unsuccessful  cam 
paigns.  It  was  rumoured,  and  partially  credited  at  the  time,  that 
General  Webb,  who  commanded  in  the  northern  department,  had 
early  intimation  of  the  movement  of  the  French  army,  and  might 
have  effectually  succoured  the  garrison.  The  subsequent  facts 
will  place  the  affair  in  its  proper  light. 

A  few  days  before  the  siege,  Major  Putnam,  with  two  hundred 
men,  escorted  General  Webb  from  Fort  Edward  to  Fort  William 
Henry.  The  object  was  to  examine  the  state  of  this  fortification, 
which  stood  at  the  southern  extremity  of  Lake  George.  Several 
abortive  attempts  having  been  made  by  Major  Rogers  and  others 
in  the  night  season,  Major  Putnam  proposed  to  go  down  the  lake 
in  open  day-light,  land  at  Northwest-Bay,  and  tarry  on  shore  un 
til  he  could  make  satisfactory  discovery  of  the  enemy's  actual  situ 
ation  at  Ticonderoga  and  the  adjacent  posts.  The  plan  (which 
he  suggested)  of  landing  with  only  five  men,  and  sending  back  the 
boats,  to  prevent  detection,  was  deemed  too  hazardous  by  the 
General,  At  length,  however,  he  was  permitted  to  proceed  with 
eighteen  volunteers  in  three  whale-boats ;  but  before  he  arrived  at 
Northwest-Bay,  he  discovered  a  body  of  men  on  an  island,  Imme- 


260  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

diately  upon  this  he  left  two  boats  to  fish  at  a  distance,  that  they 
might  not  occasion  an  alarm,  and  returned  himself  with  the  infor 
mation.  The  General,  seeing  him  rowing  back  with  great  velo 
city,  in  a  single  boat,  concluded  the  others  were  captured,  and 
sent  a  skiff,  with  orders  for  him  alone  to  come  on  shore.  After  ad 
vising  the  General  of  the  circumstances,  he  urged  the  expediency 
of  returning  to  make  further  discoveries,  and  bring  off  the  boats. 
Leave  was  reluctantly  given.  He  found  his  people,  and,  passing 
still  onward,  discovered  (by  the  aid  of  a  good  perspective  glass) 
a  large  army  in  motion.  By  this  time  several  of  the  advanced  ca 
noes  had  nearly  surrounded  him,  but  by  the  swiftness  of  his  whale- 
boats,  he  escaped  through  the  midst  of  them.  On  his  return,  he 
informed  the  General  minutely  of  all  he  had  seen,  and  intimated 
his  conviction  that  the  expedition  must  obviously  be  destined 
against  Fort  William  Henry.  That  Commander,  strictly  enjoin 
ing  silence  on  the  subject,  directed  him  to  put  his  men  under  an 
oath  of  secrecy,  and  to  prepare,  without  loss  of  time,  to  return  to 
the  Head-Quarters  of  the  army.  Major  Putnam  observed,  "  he 
"  hoped  his  Excellency  did  not  intend  to  neglect  so  fair  an  oppor- 
"  tunity  of  giving  battle,  should  the  enemy  presume  to  land." 
"What  do  you  think  we  should  do  here?"  replied  the  General. 
Accordingly,  the  next  day  he  returned,  and  the  day  after  Colonel 
Monro  was  ordered  from  Fort  Edward,  with  his  regiment,  to  re 
inforce  the  garrison.  That  officer  took  with  him  all  his  rich  bag 
gage  and  camp  equipage,  notwithstanding  Major  Putnam's  advice 
to  the  contrary.  The  day  following  his  arrival,  the  enemy  landed 
and  besieged  the  place. 

The  Marquis  de  Montcalm,  Commander  in  Chief  for  the 
French  in  Canada  (intending  to  take  advantage  of  the  absence  of 
a  large  proportion  of  the  British  force,  which  he  understood  to 
be  employed  under  Lord  Loudon  against  Louisbourg)  had  assem 
bled  whatever  men  could  be  spared  from  Ticonderoga,  Crown- 
Point  and  the  other  garrisons:  with  these  he  had  combined  a  con 
siderable  corps  of  Canadians,  and  a  larger  body  of  Indians  than 
had  ever  before  been  collected;  making,  in  the  whole,  an  army  of 
nearly  eight  thousand  men.  Our  garrison  consisted  of  twenty-five 
hundred,  and  was  commanded  by  Colonel  Monro,  a  very  gallant 
officer,  who  found  the  means  of  sending  express  after  express  to 
General  Webb,  with  an  account  of  his  situation,  and  the  most 
pressing  solicitation  for  succour.  In  the  mean  time,  the  army  at 
Fort  Edward,  which  originally  amounted  to  about  four  thousand, 
had  been  considerably  augmented  by  Johnson's  troops  and  the  mi 
litia.  On  the  eighth  or  ninth  day  after  the  landing  of  the  French, 
General  Johnson  (in  consequence  of  repeated  applications)  was 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM*  261 

suffered  to  march,  for  the  relief  of  the  garrison,  with  all  the  Pro 
vincials,  Militia,  and  Putnam's  Rangers:  but  before  they  had  pro 
ceeded  three  miles,  the  order  was  countermanded,  and  they  re 
turned.  M.  de  Montcalm  informed  Major  Putnam,  when  a  pri 
soner  in  Canada,  that  one  of  his  running  Indians  saw  and  reported 
this  movement ;  and,  upon  being  questioned  relatively  to  the  num 
bers,  answered  in  their  figurative  stile,  "  If  you  can  count  the 
leaves  on  the  trees,  you  can  count  them.'"  In  effect,  the  opera 
tions  of  the  siege  were  suspended,  and  preparations  made  for 
re-emharking,  when  another  of  the  runners  reported  that  the 
detachment  had  gone  back.  The  Marquis  de  Montcalm,  provided 
with  a  good  train  of  artillery,  meeting  with  no  annoyance  from 
the  British  army,  and  but  inconsiderable  interruption  from  the 
garrison,  accelerated  his  approaches  so  rapidly,  as  to  obtain  pos 
session  of  the  fort  in  a  short  time  after  completing  the  investi 
ture.  An  intercepted  letter  from  General  Webb,  advising  the 
surrender,  was  sent  into  the  fort  to  Colonel  Monro  by  the  French 
General. 

The  garrison  engaged  not  to  serve  for  eighteen  months,  and 
were  permitted  to  march  out  with  the  honours  of  war.  But  the 
savages  regarded  not  the  capitulation,  nor  could  they  be  re 
strained,  by  the  utmost  exertion  of  the  commanding  officer,  from 
committing  the  most  outrageous  acts  of  ci'uelty.  They  stripped 
and  plundered  all  the  prisoners,  and  murdered  great  numbers  in. 
cold  blood.  Those  who  escaped  by  flight,  or  the  protection  of  the 
French,  arrived  in  a  forlorn  condition  at  Fort  Edward:  among 
these  was  the  commandant  of  the  garrison. 

The  day  succeeding  this  deplorable  scene  of  carnage  and  bar 
barity,  Major  Putnam  having  been  dispatched  with  his  Rangers 
to  watch  the  motions  of  the  enemy,  came  to  the  shore,  when 
their  rear  was  scarcely  beyond  the  reach  of  musket-shot.  They 
had  carried  off  all  the  cannon,  stores  and  water-craft.  The  fort 
was  demolished.  The  barracks,  the  out-houses  and  suttlers'  booths 
were  heaps  of  ruins.  The  fires,  not  yet  extinct,  and  the  smoke, 
offensive  from  the  mucilaginous  nature  of  the  fuel,  but  illy  con 
cealed  innumerable  fragments  of  human  skulls  and  bones,  and, 
in  some  instances,  carcases  half  consumed.  Dead  bodies,  welter 
ing  in  blood,  were  every  where  to  be  seen,  violated  with  all  the 
wanton  mutilations  of  savage  ingenuity.  More  than  one  hundred 
women,  some  with  their  brains  still  oozing  from  the  battered 
heads,  others  with  their  whole  hair  wrenched  collectively  with 
the  skin  from  the  bloody  skulls,  and  many  (with  their  throats  cut) 
most  inhumanly  stabbed  and  butchered,  lay  stripped  entirely 


262  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

naked,  with  their  bowels  torn  out,  and  afforded  a  spectacle  too 
horrible  for  description. 

Not  long  after  this  misfortune,  General  Lyman  succeeded  to 
the  command  of  Fort  Edward.  He  resolved  to  strengthen  it. 
For  this  purpose  one  hundred  and  fifty  men  were  employed  in 
cutting  timber.  To  cover  them,  Captain  Little  was  posted  (with 
fifty  British  Regulars)  at  the  head  of  a  thick  swamp,  about  one 
hundred  rods  eastward  of  the  fort — to  which  his  communication 
lay  over  a  tongue  of  land,  formed  on  the  one  side  by  the  swamp, 
and  by  a  creek  on  the  other. 

One  morning  at  day-break,  a  centinel  saw  indistinctly  several 
birds,  as  he  conceived,  come  from  the  swamp  and  fly  over  him 
with  incredible  swiftness.  While  he  was  ruminating  on  these 
wonderful  birds,  and  endeavouring  to  form  some  idea  of  their  co 
lour,  shape  and  size,  an  arrow  buried  itself  in  the  limb  of  a  tree 
just  above  his  head.  He  now  discovered  the  quality  and  design  of 
these  winged  messengers  of  fate,  and  gave  the  alarm.  Instantly 
the  working  party  began  to  retreat  along  the  defile.  A  large 
body  of  savages  had  concealed  themselves  in  the  morass  before 
the  guard  was  posted,  and  were  attempting  in  this  way  to  kill 
the  centinel  without  noise,  with  design  to  surprise  the  whole  party. 
Finding  the  alarm  given,  they  rushed  from  the  covert,  shot  and 
tomahawked  those  who  were  nearest  at  hand,  and  pressed  hard 
on  the  remainder  of  the  unarmed  fugitives.  Captain  Little  flew 
to  their  relief,  and,  by  pouring  on  the  Indians  a  well-timed  fire, 
checked  the  pursuit,  and  enabled  such  of  the  fatigue-men  as  did 
not  fall  in  the  first  onset,  to  retire  to  the  fort.  Thither  he  sent 
for  assistance,  his  little  party  being  almost  overpowered  by  num 
bers.  But  the  commandant,  imagining  that  the  main  body  of  the 
enemy  were  approaching  for  a  general  assault,  called  in  his  out 
posts  and  shut  the  gates. 

Major  Putnam  lay  with  his  Rangers  on  an  island  adjacent  to 
the  fort.  Having  heard  the  musketry,  and  learned  that  his  friend 
Captain  Little  was  in  the  utmost  peril,  he  plunged  into  the  river 
at  the  head  of  his  corps,  and  waded  through  the  water  towards 
the  place  of  engagement.  This  brought  him  so  near  to  the  fort, 
that  General  Lyman,  apprized  of  his  design,  and  unwilling  that 
the  lives  of  a  few  more  brave  men  should  be  exposed  to  what  he 
deemed  inevitable  destruction,  mounted  the  parapet  and  ordered 
him  to  proceed  no  further.  The  Major  only  took  time  to  make 
the  best  short  apology  he  could,  and  marched  on.  This  is  the 
only  instance  in  the  whole  course  of  his  military  service  wherein 
he  did  not  pay  the  strictest  obedience  to  orders ;  and  in  this  in< 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  203 

stance  his  motive  was  highly  commendable.  But  when  such 
conduct,  even  if  sanctified  by  success,  is  passed  over  with  im 
punity,  it  demonstrates  that  all  is  not  right  in  the  military  system. 
In  a  disciplined  army,  such  as  that  of  the  United  States  became 
under  General  Washington,  an  officer  guilty  of  a  slighter  viola 
tion  of  oi'ders,  however  elevated  in  rank  or  meritorious  in  ser 
vice,  would  have  been  brought  before  the  bar  of  a  court-martial. 
Were  it  not  for  the  seductive  tendency  of  a  brave  man's  example, 
I  might  have  been  spared  the  mortification  of  making  these  re 
marks  on  the  conduct  of  an  officer,  whose  distinguishing  charac 
teristics  were  promptitude  for  duty  and  love  of  subordination, 
as  well  as  cheerfulness  to  encounter  every  species  of  difficulty 
and  danger. 

The  Rangers  of  Putnam  soon  opened  their  way  for  a  junction 
with  the  little  handful  of  Regulars,  who  still  obstinately  main 
tained  their  ground.  By  his  advice,  the  whole  rushed  impetu 
ously  with  shouts  and  huzzas  into  the  swamp.  The  savages  fled 
on  every  side,  and  were  chased,  with  no  inconsiderable  loss  on 
their  part,  as  long  as  the  day-light  lasted.  On  our's  only  one  man 
was  killed  in  the  pursuit.  His  death  was  immediately  revenged 
by  that  of  the  Indian  who  shot  him.  This  Indian  was  one  of  the 
I'unners — a  chosen  body  of  active  young  men,  who  are  made  use 
of,  not  only  to  procure  intelligence  and  convey  tidings,  but  also  to 
guai-d  the  rear  on  a  retreat. 

Here  it  will  not  be  unseasonable  to  mention  some  of  the  customs 
in  war  peculiar  to  the  aborigines,  which,  on  the  present  as  well 
as  other  occasions,  they  put  in  practice.  Whenever  a  retreating, . 
especially  a  flying  party  had  gained  the  summit  of  a  rising  ground, 
they  secreted  one  or  two  runners  behind  trees,  copses,  or  bushes 
to  fire  at  the  enemy  upon  their  ascending  the  hill.  This  com 
monly  occasioned  the  enemy  to  halt  and  form  for  battle.  In  the 
interim,  the  runners  used  such  dexterity  as  to  be  rarely  disco 
vered,  or  if  discovered,  they  vanished  behind  the  height  and  re 
joined  their  brother-warriors,  who  having  t*ms  stolen  a  distance, 
were  oftentimes  seen  by  their  pursuers  no  more.  Or  if  the  pur 
suers  were  too  eager,  they  seldom  failed  to  atone  for  their  rash 
ness  by  falling  into  an  ambuscade.  The  Mohawks,  who  were 
afterwards  much  employed  in  scouts  under  the  orders  of  Major 
Putnam,  and  who  were  perfectly  versed  in  all  the  wiles  and  stra 
tagems  of  their  countrymen,  showed  him  the  mode  of  avoiding 
the  evils  of  either  alternative.  In  suspicious  thickets,  and  at 
the  borders  of  every  considerable  eminence,  a  momentary  pause 
was  made,  while  they,  in  different  parts,  penetrated  or  ascended 
with  a  cautiousness  that  cannot  be  easily  described.  They  seemed 


264  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

all  eye  arid  ear.  When  they  found  no  lurking  mischief,  they 
•would  beckon  with  the  hand,  and  pronounce  the  word  "  OWISH," 
with  a  long  labial  hissing,  the  O  being  almost  quiescent.  This 
was  ever  the  watch-word  for  the  main  body  to  advance. 

Indians  who  went  to  war  together,  and  who,  for  any  reason 
found  it  necessary  to  separate  into  different  routes,  always  left  two 
or  three  runners  at  the  place  of  separation,  to  give  timely  notice 
to  either  party  in  case  of  pursuit. 

If  a  warrior  chanced  to  straggle  and  lose  himself  in  the  woods, 
or  be  retarded  by  accident  or  wound,  the  party  missing  him 
would  frequently,  on  their  march,  break  down  a  bush  or  a  shrub, 
and  leave  the  top  pointing  in  the  direction  they  had  gone,  that  the 
•traggler,  when  he  should  behold  it,  might  shape  his  course  ac 
cordingly. 

We  come  to  the  campaign  when  General  Aberci'ombie  took  the 
command  at  Fort  Edward.  That  General  ordered  Major  Put 
nam,  with  sixty  men,  to  proceed  by  land  to  South-Bay,  on  Lake 
George,  for  the  purpose  of  making  discoveries,  and  intercepting 
the  enemy's  parties.  The  latter,  in  compliance  with  these  or 
ders,  posted  himself  at  Wood-Creek,  near  its  entrance  into  South- 
Bay.  On  this  bank,  which  forms  a  jutting  precipice  ten  or  twelve 
feet  above  the  water,  he  erected  a  stone  parapet  thirty  feet  in 
length,  and  masked  it  with  young  pine-trees,  cut  at  a  distance,  and 
so  artfully  planted  as  to  imitate  the  natural  growth.  From  hence 
he  sent  back  fifteen  of  his  men,  who  had  fallen  sick.  Distress  for 
want  of  provisions,  occasioned  by  the  length  of  march,  and  time 
spent  on  this  temporary  fortification,  compelled  him  to  deviate 
from  a  rule  he  had  established,  never  to  permit  a  gun  to  be  fired 
but  at  an  enemy  while  on  a  scout.  He  was  now  obliged  himself 
to  shoot  a  buck,  which  had  jumped  into  the  Creek,  in  order  to 
eke  out  their  scanty  subsistence  until  the  fourth  day  after  the  com 
pletion  of  the  works.  About  ten  o'clock  that  evening,  one  of  the 
men  on  duty  at  the  margin  of  the  bay,  informed  him  that  a  fleet 
of  bark  canoes,  filled  with  men,  was  steering  towards  the  mouth 
of  the  Creek.  He  immediately  called  in  all  his  centinels,  and  or 
dered  every  man  to  his  post.  A  profound  stillness  reigned  in  the 
atmosphere,  and  the  full  moon  shone  with  uncommon  brightness. 
The  creek,  which  the  enemy  entered,  is  about  six  rods  wide,  and 
the  bank  opposite  to  the  parapet  above  twenty  feet  high.  It  was 
intended  to  permit  the  canoes  in  front  to  pass — they  had  accord 
ingly  just  passed,  when  a  soldier  accidentally  struck  his  firelock 
against  a  stone.  The  commanding  officer  in  the  van  canoe  heard 
the  noise,  and  repeated  several  times  the  savage  watch-word, — 
OWISH!  Instantly  the  canoes  huddled  together,  with  their  centre 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  565 

precisely  in  front  of  the  works,  covering  the  creek  for  a  consi 
derable  distance  above  and  below.  The  officers  appeared  to  be 
in  deep  consultation,  and  the  fleet  on  the  point  of  returning,  when 
Major  Putnam,  who  had  ordered  his  men  in  the  most  peremptory 
manner  not  to  fire  until  he  should  set  the  example,  gave  the  sig 
nal,  by  discharging  his  piece.  They  fired.  Nothing  could  exceed 
the  inextricable  confusion  and  apparent  consternation  occasioned 
by  this  well-concerted  attack.  But,  at  last,  the  enemy  finding, 
from  the  unfrequency  (though  there  was  no  absolute  intermission) 
in  the  firing,  that  the  number  of  our  men  must  be  small,  resolved  to 
land  below,  and  surround  them.  Putnam,  apprehensive  of  this  fi'orri 
the  movement,  sent  Lieutenant  Robert  Durkee,*  with  twelve  men, 
about  thirty  rods  down  the  creek,  who  arrived  in  time  to  repulse 
the  party  which  attempted  to  land.  Another  small  detachment, 
under  Lieutenant  Parsons,  was  ordered  up  the  creek  to  prevent 
any  similar  attempt.  In  the  mean  time  Major  Putnam  kept  up, 
through  the  whole  night,  an  incessant  and  deadly  fire  on  the  main 
body  of  the  enemy,  without  receiving  any  thing  in  return  but  shot 
void  of  effect,  accompanied  with  dolorous  groans,  miserable  shrieks, 
and  dismal  savage  yells.  After  day-break  he  was  advised  that  one 
part  of  the  enemy  had  effected  a  landing  considerably  below,  and 
were  rapidly  advancing  to  cut  off"  his  retreat.  Apprised  of  the  great 
superiority  still  opposed  to  him,  as  well  as  of  the  situation  of  hi« 
own  soldiers,  some  of  whom  were  entirely  destitute  of  ammunition, 
and  the  rest  reduced  to  one  or  two  rounds  per  man,  he  commanded 
them  to  swing  their  packs.  By  hastening  the  retreat,  in  good  or 
der,  they  had  just  time  to  retire  far  enough  up  the  creek  to  pre 
vent  being  enclosed.  During  this  long-continued  action,  in  which 
the  Americans  had  slain  at  least  five  times  their  own  number,  only 
one  Provincial  and  one  Indian  were  wounded  on  their  side.  These 
unfortunate  men  had  been  sent  off  for  camp  in  the  night,  with  two 
men  to  assist  them,  and  directions  to  proceed  by  Wood-Creek  as 
the  safest,  though  not  the  shortest  route.  But  having  taken  a 
nearer  way,  they  were  pursued  and  overtaken  by  the  Indians, 
wl*o,  from  the  blood  on  the  leaves  and  bushes,  believed  that  they 

*  As  the  name  of  the  brave  Durkee  will  occur  no  more  in  these  sheets, 
I  may  be  indulged  in  mentioning  his  melancholy  fate.  He  survived  this 
war,  and  was  appointed  a  Captain  in  that  war  which  terminated  in  the 
acknowledgment  of  our  Independence.  In  1778  he  was  wounded  and 
taken  prisoner  by  the  savages  at  the  battle  of  Wioming,  on  the  Susque- 
hannah.  Having  been  condemned  to  be  burnt,  the  Indians  kept  him  in 
the  flames  with  pitch-forks,  until  he  expired  in  the  most  excruciating  tor- 

2M 


266  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

were  on  the  trail  of  our  whole  party.  The  wounded,  despairing 
of  mercy,  and  unable  to  fly,  insisted  that  the  well  soldiers  should 
make  their  escape,  which,  on  a  moment's  deliberation,  they  ef 
fected.  The  Provincial,  whose  thigh  was  broken  by  a  ball,  upon 
the  approach  of  the  savages,  fired  his  piece,  and  killed  three  of 
them ;  after  which  he  was  quickly  hacked  in  pieces.  The  In 
dian,  however,  was  saved  alive.  This  man  Major  Putnam  saw 
afterwards  in  Canada,  where  he  likewise  leai-ned  that  his  enemy, 
hi  the  rencounter  at  Wood-Creek,  consisted  of  five  hundred  French 
and  Indians,  under  the  command  of  the  celebrated  partizan  Mo- 
lang,  and  that  no  party,  since  the  war,  had  suffered  so  severely, 
as  more  than  one-half  of  those  who  went  out  never  returned. 

Our  brave  little  company,  reduced  to  forty  in  number,  had  pro 
ceeded  along  the  bank  of  the  creek  about  an  hour's  march,  when 
Major  Putnam,  being  in  front,  was  fired  upon  by  a  party  just  at 
hand.  He,  rightly  appreciating  the  advantage  often  obtained  by 
assuming  a  bold  countenance  on  a  critical  occasion,  in  a  stentoro- 
phonick  tone,  ordered  his  men  to  rush  on  the  enemy,  and  pro 
mised  that  they  should  soon  give  a  good  account  of  them.  It 
proved  to  be  a  scout  of  Provincials,  who  conceived  they  were  fir 
ing  upon  the  French ;  but  the  commanding  officer,  knowing  Put 
nam's  voice,  cried  out,  "  that  they  were  all  friends." — Upon  this 
the  Major  told  him  abruptly,  "  that,  friends  or  enemies,  they  all 
"  deserved  to  be  hanged  for  not  killing  more  when  they  had  so  fair 
"  a  shot."  In  fact,  but  one  man  was  mortally  wounded.  While 
these  things  were  transacted,  a>  faithful  soldier,  whose  ammuni 
tion  had  been  early  exhausted,  made  his  way  to  the  fort,  and 
gave  such  information,  that  General  Lyman  was  detached  with. 
five  hundred  men  to  cover  the  retreat.  Major  Putnam  met  them 
at  only  twelve  miles  distance  from  the  fort,  to  which  they  re 
turned  the  next  day. 

In  the  winter  of  1757,  when  Colonel  Haviland  was  Command 
ant  at  Fort  Edward,  the  barracks  adjoining  to  the  north-west  bas 
tion  took  fire.  They  extended  within  twelve  feet  of  the  magazine, 
which  contained  three  hundred  barrels  of  powder.  On  its  first  dis 
covery,  the  fire  raged  with  great  violence.  The  Commandant 
endeavoured,  in  vain,  by  discharging  some  pieces  of  heavy  artil 
lery  against  the  supporters  of  this  flight  of  barracks,  to  level  them 
with  the  ground.  Putnam  arrived  from  the  island  where  he  was 
stationed  at  the  fnoment  when  the  blaze  approached  that  end 
which  was  contiguous  to  the  magazine.  Instantly  a  vigorous  at 
tempt  was  made  to  extinguish  the  conflagration.  A  way  was 
opened  by  a  postern  gate  to  the  river,  and  the  soldiers  were  em 
ployed  in  bringing  water ;  which  he,  having  mounted  on  a  ladder 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  267 

to  the  eves  of  the  building,  received  and  threw  upon  the  flame.  It 
continued,  notwithstanding  their  utmost  efforts,  to  gain  upon  them. 
He  stood,  enveloped  in  smoke,  so  near  the  sheet  of  firc^  that  a 
pair  of  thick  blanket  mittens  were  burnt  entirely  from  his  hands ; 
he  was  supplied  with  another  pair  dipt  in  water.  Colonel  Havi- 
land,  fearing  that  he  would  perish  in  the  flames,  called  to  him  to 
come  down.  But  he  entreated  that  he  might  be  suffered  to  remain, 
•since  destruction  must  inevitably  ensue  if  their  exertions  should  be 
remitted.  The  gallant  Commandant,  not  less  astonished  than 
charmed  at  the  boldness  of  his  conduct,  forbade  any  more  effects 
to  be  carried  out  of  the  Fort,  animated  the  men  to  redoubled  dili 
gence,  and  exclaimed,  "  if  we  must  be  blown  up,  we  will  go  all 
together."  At  last,  when  the  barracks  were  seen  to  be  tumbling, 
Putnam  descended,  placed  himself  at  the  interval,  and  continued 
from  an  incessant  rotation  of  replenished  buckets  to  pour  water 
upon  the  magazine.  The  outside  planks  were  already  consumed 
by  the  proximity  of  the  fire,  and  as  only  one  thickness  of  timber 
intervened,  the  trepidation  now  became  general  and  extreme. 
Putnam,  still  undaunted,  covered  with  a  cloud  of  cinders,  and 
scorched  with  the  intensity  of  the  heat,  maintained  his  position 
until  the  fire  subsided,  and  the  danger  was  wholly  over.  He  had 
contended  for  one  hour  and  an  half  with  that  terrible  element.  His 
legs,  his  thighs,  his  arms,  and  his  face  were  blistered ;  and  when 
he  pulled  off  his  second  pair  of  mittens,  the  skin  from  his  hands 
and  fingers  followed  them.  It  was  a  month  before  he  recovered. 
The  Commandant,  to  whom  his  merits  had  before  endeared  him, 
could  not  stifle  the  emotions  of  gratitude,  due  to  the  man  who  had 
been  so  instrumental  in  preserving  the  magazine,  the  fort,  and 
the  garrison. 

The  repulse  before  Ticonderoga  took  place  in  1758.  General 
Abercrombie,  the  British  Commander  in  Chief  in  America,  con 
ducted  the  expedition.  His  army,  which  amounted  to  nearly  six 
teen  thousand  Regulars  and  Provincials,  was  amply  supplied  with 
artillery  and  military  stores.  This  Avell-appointed  corps  passed 
over  Lake  George,  and  landed,  without  opposition,  at  the  point 
of  destination.  The  troops  advanced  in  columns.  Lord  Howe  hav 
ing  Major  Putnam  with  him,  was  in  front  of  the  centre.  A  body 
of  about  five  hundred  men,  (the  advance  or  pickets  of  the  French 
army)  which  had  fled  at  first,  began  to  skirmish  with  our  left. 
"Putnam,"  said  Lord  Howe,  "what  means  that  firing?"  "I 
know  not,  but  with  your  Lordship's  leave  will  see,"  replied  the 
former.  li  I  will  accompany  you,"  rejoined  the  gallant  young  no 
bleman.  In  vain  did  Major  Putnam  attempt  to  dissuade  him,  by 
saying — "  My  Lord,  if  I  am  killed,  the  loss  of  my  life  will  be  of 


S*8  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

"  little  consequence,  but  the  preservation  of  your's  is  of  infinite  im- 
"  portance  to  this  army."    The  only  answer  was,  "  Putnam,  your 
"  life  is  as  dear  to  you  as  mine  is  to  me;  I  am  determined  to 
go."     One  hundred  of  the  van,  under  Major  Putnam,  filed  off 
•with  Lord  Howe.    They  soon  met  the  left  flank  of  the  enemy's  ad 
vance,  by  whose  first  fire  his  Lordship  fell. — It  was  a  loss  indeed ; 
and  particularly  felt  in  the  operations  which  occurred  three  days 
afterwards.     His  manners  and  his  virtues  had  made  him  the  idol 
of  the  army.     From  his  first  arrival  in  America  he  had  accom 
modated  himself  *  and  his  regiment  to  the  peculiar  nature  of  the 
service.     Exemplary  to  the  office,  a  friend  of  the  soldier,  the  mo, 
del  of  discipline,  he  had  not  failed  to  encounter  every  hai-dship  and 
hazai'd.    Nothing  could  be  more  calculated  to  inspire  men  with  the 
rash  animation  of  rage,  or  to  temper  it  with  the  cool  perseverance 
of  revenge,  than  the  sight  of  such  a  hero,  $o  beloved,  fallen  in  his 
country's  cause.     It  had  the  effect.     Putnam's  party,  having  cut 
their  way  obliquely  through  the  enemy's  ranks,  and  having  been 
joined  by  Captain  D'Ell,  with  twenty  men,  together  with  some 
other  small  parties,  charged  them  so  furiously  in  rear,  that  nearly 
three  hundred  were  killed  on  the  spot,  and  one  hundred  and  forty- 
eight  made  prisoners.     In  the  mean  time,  from  the  unskilfulness 
of  the  guides,  some  of  our  columns  were   bewildered.     The  left 
wing,  seeing  Putnam's  party   in  their  front,  advancing  over  the 
dead  bodies  towards  them,  commenced  a  brisk  and  heavy  fire, 
which  killed  a  serjeant  and  several  privates.     Nor  could  they,  by 
sounds  or  signs,  be  convinced  of  their  mistake,  until  Major  Put 
nam,  preferring  (if  heaven  had  thus  ordained  it)  the  loss  of  his 
own  life  to  the  loss  of  the  lives  of  his  brave  associates,  ran  through 
the  midst  of  the  flying  balls,  and  prevented  the  impending  catas 
trophe. 

The  tender  feelings  which  Major  Putnam  possessed  taught 
him  to  respect  an  unfortunate  foe,  and  to  strive,  by  every  lenient 
art  in  his  power,  to  alleviate  the  miseries  of  war.  For  this  pur 
pose  he  remained  on  the  field  until  it  began  to  grow  dark,  em 
ployed  in  collecting  such  of  the  enemy  as  were  left  wounded,  to 
one  place;  he  gave  them  all  the  liquor  and  little  refreshments 
which  he  could  procure  ;  he  furnished  to  each  of  them  a  blanket  ; 
he  put  three  blankets  under  a  French  serjeant  who  was  badly 
wounded  through  the  body,  and  placed  him  in  an  easy  posture  by 
the  side  of  a  tree :  the  poor  fellow  could  only  squeeze  his  hand 

*  He  cut  his  hair  short,  and  induced  the  regiment  to  follow  the  example. 
He  fashioned  their  cloathing  for  the  activity  of  service,  and -divested 
himself  and  them  of  every  article  of  superfluous  baggage. 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  269 

with  an  expressive  grasp.  "  Ah,"  said  Major  Putnam,  "  depend 
*'  upon  it,  my  brave  soldier,,  you  shall  be  brought  to  the  camp  as 
"  soon  as  possible,  and  the  same  care  shall  be  taken  of  you  as  if 
a  you  were  my  brother."  The  next  morning  Major  Rogers  was  sent 
to  reconnoitre  the  field,  and  to  bring  off  the  wounded  prisoners ; 
but  finding  the  wounded  unable  to  help  themselves,  in  order  to  save 
trouble,  he  dispatched  every  one  of  them  to  the  world  of  spirits. 
Putnam's  was  not  the  only  heart  that  bled.  The  Provincial  and 
British  officers  who  became  acquainted  with  the  fact,  were  struck 
with  inexpressible  horror. 

Ticonderoga  is  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  water  ;  on  the 
fourth,  for  some  distance,  extends  a  dangerous  morass ;  the  re 
mainder  was  then  fortified  with  a  line  eight  feet  high,  and  planted 
with  artillery.  For  one  hundred  yards  in  front  the  plain  was 
covered  with  great  trees,  cut  for  the  purpose  of  defence,  whoso 
interwoven  and  sharpened  branches  projected  outwards.  Not 
withstanding  these  impediments,  the  engineer  who  had  been  em 
ployed  to  reconnoitre,  reported  as  his  opinion,  that  the  works 
might  be  carried  with  musketry.  The  difficulty  and  delay  of 
dragging  the  battering  cannon  over  grounds  almost  impracticable, 
induced  the  adoption  of  this  fatal  advice — to  which,  however,  a 
rumour  that  the  garrison,  already  consisting  of  four  or  five  thou 
sand  men,  was  on  the  point  of  being  augmented  with  three  thou 
sand  more,  probably  contributed.  The  attack  was  as  spirited  in 
execution  as  ill-judged  in  design.  The  assailants,  after  having 
been  for  more  than  four  hours  exposed  to  a  most  fatal  fire,  with 
out  making  any  impression  by  their  i-eiterated  and  obstinate  proofs 
of  valour,  wei-e  ordered  to  reti-eat.  Major  Putnam,  who  had 
acted  as  an  aid  in  bringing  the  Provincial  regiments  successively 
to  action,  assisted  in  preserving  order.  It  was  said  that  a  great 
number  of  the  enemy  were  shot  in  the  head,  every  other  part 
having  been  concealed  behind  their  works.  The  loss  on  our  side 
was  upwards  of  two  thousand  killed  and  wounded.  Twenty-five 
hundred  stands  of  arms  were  taken  by  the  French.  Our  army, 
after  sustaining  this  havock,  retreated  with  such  extraordinary 
precipitation,  that  they  regained  their  camp  at  the  southward  of 
Lake  George  the  evening  after  the  action. 

The  successes  in  other  parts  of  America  made  amends  for 
this  defeat.  Louisbourg,  after  a  vigorous  siege,  was  reduced  by 
the  Generals  Amherst  and  Wolfe :  Frontenac,  a  post  of  import 
ance  on  the  communication  between  Lake  Ontario  and  the  St. 
Lawrence,  surrendered  to  Colonel  Bradstreet:  and  Fort  Du 
Quesne,  situated  at  the  confluence  of  Mtmongahela.  witli  the  Ohio, 
(the  possession  of  which  had  kindled  the  flame  of  war  that  uow 


270  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

spread  through  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe)  was  captured  by 
General  Forbes. 

A  few  adventures,  in  which  the  public  interests  were  little  con 
cerned,  but  which,  from  their  peculiarity,  appear  worthy  of  be 
ing  preserved,  happened  before  the  conclusion  of  the  year.     As 
one  day   Major  Putnam  chanced  to  lie  with  a  batteau  and  five 
men,  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the  Hudson,  near  the  Rapids,  con 
tiguous  to  which  Fort  Miller  stood,  his  men  on  the  opposite  bank 
had  given  him  to  undei'stand,  that  a  large  body  of  savages  were  in 
his  rear,  and  would  be  upon  him  in  a  moment.    To  stay  and  be 
sacrificed — to  attempt  crossing  and  be  shot — or  to  go  down  to  the 
falls,  with  an  almost  absolute  certainty  of  being  drowned,  were  the 
sole  alternatives  that  presented  themselves  to  his  choice.    So  in 
stantaneously  was  the  latter  adopted,  that  one  man  who  had  ram 
bled  a  little  from  the  party,   was,   of  necessity,   left,  and  fell  a 
miserable  victim  to  savage  barbarity.    The  Indians  arrived  on  the 
shore  soon  enough  to  fire  many  balls  on  the  batteau  before  it  could 
be  got  under  way.     No  sooner  had  our  batteau-men  escaped,  by 
favour  of  the  rapidity  of  the  current,  beyond  the  reach  of  mus 
ket  shot,  than  death  seemed  only  to  have  been  avoided  in  one 
form  to  be  encountered  in  another  not  less  terrible.     Prominent 
rocks,  latent  shelves,  absorbing  eddies,  and  abrupt  descents,  for 
a  quarter  of  a  mile,    afforded  scarcely  the  smallest  chance  of 
escaping  without  a  miracle.     Putnam,  trusting  himself  to  a  good 
Providence,   whose  kindness  he  had  often  experienced,   rather 
than  to  men,    Avhose  tenderest  mercies    are    cruelty,   was  now 
seen  to  place  himself  sedately  at  the  helm,  and  afford  an  asto 
nishing  spectacle  of  serenity.    His  companions,  with  a  mixture  of 
terror,    admiration  and  wonder,    saw  him  incessantly  changing 
the  course,  to  avoid  the  jaws  of  ruin,  that  seemed  expanded  to 
swallow  the  whirling  boat.     Twice  he  turned  it  fairly  round  to 
shun  the  rifts  of  recks.     Amidst  these  eddies,  in  which  there  was 
the  greatest  danger  of  its  foundering,  at  one  moment  the  sides 
were  exposed  to  the  fury  of  the  waves ;  then  the  stern,  and  next 
the  bow  glanced  obliquely  onward,  with  inconceivable  velocity. — 
With  not  less  amazement  the  savages  beheld  him  sometimes 
mounting  the  billows,  then  plunging  abruptly  down,  at  other  times 
skilfully  veering  from  the  rocks,  and  shooting  through  the  only 
narrow  passage ;  until,  at  last,  they  viewed  the  boat  safely  gliding 
on  the  smooth  surface  of  the  stream  below.     At  this  sight,  it  is 
asserted,  that  these  rude  sons  of  nature  were  affected  with  the 
same  kind  of    superstitious  veneration  which  the  Europeans,  in 
the  d;irk  ages,  entertained  for  some  of  their  most  valorous  cham 
pions.     They  deemed  the  man  invulnerable,  whom  their  balls,  on 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  271 

his  pushing  from  shore,  could  not  touch ;  and  whom  they  had  seen 
steering  in  safety  down  the  rapids  that  had  never  before  been 
passed.  They  conceived  it  would  be  an  affront  against- the  Great 
Spirit  to  attempt  to  kill  this  favoured  mortal  with  powder  and 
ball,  if  they  should  ever  see  and  know  him  again. 

In  the  month  of  August  five  hundred  men  were  employed, 
under  the  orders  of  Majors  Rogers  and  Putnam,  to  watch  the  mo 
tions  of  the  enemy  near  Ticonderoga.  At  South-Bay  they  separated 
the  party  into  two  equal  divisions,  and  Rogers  took  a  position  on 
Wood-Creek,  twelve  miles  distant  from  Putnam. 

Upon  being,  some  time  afterwards,  discovered,  they  formed  a 
re-union,  and  concerted  measures  for  returning  to  Fort  Edward. 
Their  march  through  the  woods  was  in  three  divisions  by  FILES  : 
the  right  commanded  by  Rogers,  the  left  by  Putnam,  and  the  cen 
tre  by  Captain  D'Ell.  The  first  night  they  encamped  on  the  banks 
of  Clear  River,  about  a  mile  from  old  Fort  Ann,  which  had  been 
formerly  built  by  General  Nicholson.  Next  morning  Major 
Rogers,  and  a  British  officer,  named  Irwin,  incautiously  suffered 
themselves,  from  a  spirit  of  false  emulation, to  be  engaged  in  firing 
at  a  mark.  Nothing  could  have  been  moi-e  repugnant  to  the  mili 
tary  principles  of  Putnam  than  such  conduct,  or  reprobated  by  him 
in  more  pointed  terms.  As  soon  as  the  heavy  dew  which  had  fal 
len  the  preceding  night  would  permit,  the  detachment  moved  in 
one  body,  Putnam  being  in  front,  D'Ell  in  centre,  and  Rogers  in, 
the  rear.  The  impervious  growth  of  shrubs  and  under-brush  that 
had  sprung  up,  where  the  land  had  been  partially  cleared  some 
years  before,  occasioned  this  change  in  the  order  of  march.  At 
the  moment  of  moving,  the  famous  French  partizan  Molang,  wko 
had  been  sent  with  five  hundred  men  to  intercept  our  party,  was 
not  more  than  one  mile  and  an  half  distant  from  them.  Having 
heard  the  firing,  he  hasted  to  lay  an  ambuscade  precisely  in  that 
part  of  the  wood  most  favourable  to  his  project.  Major  Putnam 
was  just  emerging  from  the  thicket,  into  the  common  forest,  when 
the  enemy  rose,  and  with  discordant  yells  and  whoops,  com 
menced  an  attack  upon  the  right  of  his  division.  Surprized,  but 
undismayed,  Putnam  halted,  returned  the  fire,  and  passed  the 
word  for  the  other  divisions  to  advance  for  his  support.  D'Ell 
came.  The  action,  though  widely  scattered,  and  principally  fought 
between  man  and  man,  soon  grew  general  and  intensely  warm. 
It  would  be  as  difficult  as  useless  to  describe  this  irregular  and  fe 
rocious  mode  of  fighting.  Rogers  came  not  up ;  but,  as  he  de 
clared  afterwards,  formed  a  circular  file  between  our  party  and 
Wood-Creek,  to  prevent  their  being  taken  in  rear  or  enfiladed. 
Successful  as  lie  commonly  was,  his  conduct  did  not  always  paws 


372  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM* 

without  unfavourable  imputation.  Notwithstanding,  it  was  a  cuf-« 
rent  saying  in  the  camp,  "  that  Rogers  always  sent,  but  Putnam 
led  his  men  to  action,"  yet,  in  justice,  it  ought  to  be  remarked 
here,  that  the  latter  has  never  been  known,  in  relating  the  story 
of  this  day's  disaster,  to  affix  any  stigma  upon  the  conduct  of  the 
former. 

Major  Putnam,  perceiving  it  would  be  impracticable  to  ci'oss  the 
creek,  determined  to  maintain  his  ground.  Inspired  by  his  ex 
ample,  the  officers  and  men  behaved  with  great  bravery  :  some 
times  they  fought  aggregately  in  open  vie  w,  and  sometimes  indi 
vidually  under  cover ;  taking  aim  from  behind  the  bodies  of  trees, 
and  acting  in  a  manner  independent  of  each  other.  For  himself^ 
having  discharged  his  fuzee  several  times,  at  length  it  missed  fire, 
while  the  muzzle  was  pressed  against  the  breast  of  a  large  and 
well-proportioned  savage.  This  ivarfior,  availing  himself  of  the 
indefensible  attitude  of  his  adversary,  with  a  tremendous  Avar-' 
hoop,  sprang  forward,  with  his  lifted  hatchet,  and  compelled  him 
to  surrender ;  and  having  disarmed  and  bound  him  fast  to  a  tree, 
returned  to  the  battle. 

The  intrepid  Captains  D'Ell  and  Harman,  who  now  commanded, 
were  forced  to  give  ground  for  a  little  distance  :  the  savages,  con 
ceiving  this  to  be  the  certain  harbinger  of  victory,  rushed  impetu 
ously  on,  with  dreadful  and  redoubled  cries.  But  our  two  pavti- 
zans,  collecting  a  handful  of  brave  men,  gave  the  pursuers  so 
warm  a  reception  as  to  oblige  them,  in  turn,  to  retreat  a  little  be 
yond  the  spot  at  which  the  action  had  commenced.  Here  they 
made  a  stand.  This  change  of  ground  occasioned  the  tree  to  which 
Putnam  was  tied  to  be  directly  between  the  fire  of  the  two  parties. 
Human  imagination  can  hardly  figure  to  itself  a  more  deplorable 
situation.  The  balls  flew  incessantly  from  either  side,  many  struck 
the  tree,  while  some  passed  through  the  sleeves  and  skirts  of  his 
coat.  In  this  state  of  jeopardy,  unable  to  move  his  body,  to  stir 
his  limbs,  or  even  to  incline  his  head,  he  remained  more  than  an 
hour.  So  equally  balanced,  and  so  obstinate  was  the  fight !  At 
one  moment,  while  the  battle  swerved  in  favour  of  the  enemy,  a 
young  savage  chose  an  odd  way  of  discovering  his  humour.  He 
found  Putnam  bound.  He  might  have  dispatched  him  at  a  blow. 
But  he  loved  better  to  excite  the  terrors  of  the  prisoner,  by  hurl 
ing  a  tomahawk  at  his  head,  or  rather  it  should  seem  his  object 
was  to  see  how  near  he  could  throw  it  without  touching  him — the 
weapon  struck  in  the  tree  a  number  of  times  at  a  hair's  breadth 
distance  from  the  mark.  When  the  Indian  had  finished  his  amuse 
ment,  a  French  bas-officer  (a  much  more  inveterate  savage  by  na 
ture,  though  descended  from  so  humane  and  polished  a  nation) 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  2f3 

perceiving  Putnam,  came  up  to  him,  and,  levelling  a  fuzee  within: 
a  foot  of  his  breast,  attempted  to  discharge  it — it  missed  fire.  In 
effectually  did  the  intended  victim  solicit  the  treatment  due  to  his 
situation,  by  repeating  that  he  was  a  prisoner  of  war.  The  dege 
nerate  Frenchman  did  not  understand  the  language  of  honour  or 
of  nature :  deaf  to  their  voice,  and  dead  to  sensibility,  he  violently, 
and  repeatedly,  pushed  the  muzzle  of  his  gun  against  Putnam's 
ribs,  and  finally  gave  him  a  cruel  blow  on  the  jaw  with  the  but 
of  his  piece.  After  this  dastardly  deed  he  left  him. 

At  length  the  active  intrepidity  of  D'Ell  and  Harman,*  seconded 
by  the  persevering  valour  of  their  followers,  prevailed.  They 
drove  from  the  field  the  enemy,  who  left  about  ninety  dead  be 
hind  them.  As  they  were  retiring,  Putnam  was  untied  by  the 
Indian  who  had  made  him  prisoner,  and  whom  he  afterwards 
called  master.  Having  been  conducted  for  some  distance  from 
the  place  of  action,  he  was  stripped  of  his  coat,  vest,  stockings 
and  shoes ;  loaded  with  as  many  of  the  packs  of  the  wounded  as 
could  be  piled  upon  him ;  strongly  pinioned,  and  his  wrists  tied  as 
closely  together  as  they  could  be  pulled  with  a  cord.  After  he 
had  marched,  through  no  pleasant  paths,  in  this  painful  manner, 
for  many  a  tedious  mile,  the  party  (who  were  excessively  fatigued) 
halted  to  breathe.  His  hands  were  now  immoderately  swelled 
from  the  tightness  of  the  ligature ;  and  the  pain  had  become  into 
lerable.  His  feet  were  so  much  scratched,  that  the  blood  dropped 
fast  from  them.  Exhausted  with  bearing  a  burden  above  his 
strength,  and  frantic  with  torments  exquisite  beyond  endurance, 
he  entreated  the  Irish  interpreter  to  implore,  as  the  last  and  only 
grace  he  desired  of  the  savages,  that  they  would  knock  him  on 
the  head  and  take  his  scalp  at  once,  or  loose  his  hands.  A  French 
officer,  instantly  interposing,  ordered  his  hands  to  be  unbound, 
and  some  of  the  packs  to  be  taken  off.  By  this  time  the  Indian 
who  captured  him,  and  had  been  absent  with  the  wounded,  coming 
up,  gave  him  a  pair  of  mocasons,  and  expressed  great  indigna 
tion  at  the  unworthy  treatment  his  prisoner  had  suffered. 

That  savage  chief  again  returned  to  the  care  of  the  wounded, 
and  the  Indians,  about  two  hundred  in  number,  went  before  the 
rest  of  the  party  to  the  place  where  the  whole  were  that  night 
to  encamp.  They  took  with  them  Major  Putnam,  on  whom,  be 
sides  innumerable  other  outrages,  they  had  the  barbarity  to  inflict 
a  deep  wound  with  a  tomahawk  in  the  left  cheek.  His  suffer 
ings  were  in  this  place  to  be  consummated.  A  scene  of  horror, 

*  This  worthy  officer  is  still  living  at  Marlborough,  ia  tl>e  State  pf 
Massachusetts., 

2N 


274  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

infinitely  greater  than  had  ever  met  his  eyes  before,  was  now  pre* 
paring.  It  was  determined  to  roast  him  alive.  For  this  purpose 
they  led  him  into  a  dark  forest,  stripped  him  naked,  bound  him 
to  a  tree,  and  piled  dry  brush,  with  other  fuel,  at  a  small  distance, 
in  a  circle  round  him.  They  accompanied  their  labours,  as  if 
for  his  funeral  dirge,  with  screams  and  sounds  inimitable  but  by 
savage  voices.  Then  they  set  the  piles  on  fire.  A  sudden  shower 
damped  the  rising  flame.  Still  they  strove  to  kindle  it,  until,  at 
last,  the  blaze  ran  fiercely  round  the  circle.  Major  Putnam  soon 
began  to  feel  the  scorching  heat.  His  hands  were  so  tied  that  he 
eould  move  his  body.  He  often  shifted  sides  as  the  fire  approached. 
This  sight,  at  the  very  idea  of  which  all  but  savages  must  shud 
der,  afforded  the  highest  diversion  to  his  inhuman  tormentors, 
who  demonstrated  the  delirium  of  their  joy  by  correspondent 
yells,  dances,  and  gesticulations.  He  saw  clearly  that  his  final 
hour  was  inevitably  come.  He  summoned  all  his  resolution,  and 
composed  his  mind,  as  far  as  the  circumstances  could  admit,  to 
bid  an  eternal  farewell  to  all  he  held  most  dear.  To  quit  the 
world  would  scarcely  have  cost  a  single  pang ;  but  for  the  idea  of 
home,  but  for  the  remembrance  of  domestic  endearments,  of  the 
affectionate  partner  of  his  soul,  and  of  their  beloved  offspring. 
His  thought  was  ultimately  fixed  on  a  happier  state  of  existence, 
beyond  the  tortures  he  was  beginning  to  endure.  The  bitterness 
of  death,  even  of  that  death  which  is  accompanied  with  the 
keenest  agonies,  was,  in  a  manner,  past — nature,  with  a  feeble 
struggle,  was  quitting  its  last  hold  on  sublunary  things — when  a 
French  officer  rushed  through  the  crowd,  opened  a  way  by  scat 
tering  the  burning  brands,  and  unbound  the  victim.  It  was  Mo- 
lang  himself — to  whom  a  savage,  unwilling  to  see  another  human 
sacrifice  immolated,  had  run  and  communicated  the  tidings.  That 
eommandant  spurned  and  severely  reprimanded  the  barbarians, 
whose  nocturnal  powwas  and  hellish  orgies  he  suddenly  ended. 
Putnam  did  not  want  for  feeling  or  gratitude.  The  French  com 
mander,  fearing  to  trust  him  alone  with  them,  remained  until  he 
eould  deliver  him  in  safety  into  the  hands  of  his  master. 

The  savage  approached  his  prisoner  kindly,  and  seemed  to 
treat  him  with  particular  affection.  He  offered  him  some  hard' 
biscuit ;  but  finding  that  he  could  not  chew  them,  on  account  of 
the  blow  he  had  received  from  the  Frenchman,  this  more  hu 
mane  savage  soaked  some  of  the  biscuit  in  water,  and  made  him- 
suck  the  pulp-like  part.  Determined,  however,  not  to  loose  his 
captive  (the  refreshment  being  finished)  he  took  the  mocasons- 
from  his  feet,  and  tied  them  to  one  of  his  wrists :  then  directing, 
liim.  to  lie  dowa  on  his  back  upon  the  bare  ground,  he  stretched. 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  275 

•one  arm  to  its  full  length,  and  bound  it  fast  to  a  young  tree ;  the 
•other  arm  was  extended  and  bound  in  the  same  manner — his  legs 
"were  stretched  apart  and  fastened  to  two  saplings.  Then  a  num- 
t>er  of  tall,  but  slender  poles  were  cut  down,  which,  with  some 
long  bushes,  were  laid  across  his  body  from  head  to  foot :  on  each 
side  lay  as  many  Indians  as  could  conveniently  find  lodging,  in  or- 
•der  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  his  escape.  In  this  disagreeable 
and  painful  posture  he  remained  until  morning.  During  this 
•night,  the  longest  and  most  dreary  conceivable,  our  hero  used  to 
relate  that  he  felt  a  ray  of  cheerfulness  come  casually  across  his 
mind,  and  could  not  even  refrain  from  smiling  when  he  reflected  on 
this  ludicrous  groupe  for  a  painter,  of  which  he  himself  was  the 
principal  figure. 

The  next  day  he  was  allowed  his  blanket  and  mocasons,  and 
permitted  to  march  without  carrying  any  pack,  or  receiving  any 
insult.  To  allay  his  extreme  hunger,  a  little  bear's  meat  was 
given,  which  he  sucked  through  his  teeth.  At  night  the  party 
arrived  at  Ticonderoga,  and  the  prisoner  was  placed  under  the 
care  of  a  French  guard.  The  savages,  who  had  been  prevented 
from  glutting  their  diabolical  thirst  for  blood,  took  other  oppor 
tunity  of  manifesting  their  malevolence  for  the  disappointment, 
by  horrid  grimaces  and  angry  gestures;  but  they  were  suffered 
no  more  to  offer  violence  or  personal  indignity  to  him. 

After  having  been  examined  by  the  Marquis  de  Montcalm, 
Major  Putnam  was  conducted  to  Montreal  by  a  French  officer, 
who  treated  him  with  the  greatest  indulgence  and  humanity. 

At  this  place  were  several  prisoners.  Colonel  Peter  Schuyler, 
remarkable  for  his  philanthropy,  generosity,  and  friendship,  was 
of  the  number.  No  sooner  had  he  heard  of  Major  Putnam's  ar 
rival,  than  he  went  to  the  interpreter's  quarters,  and  inquired 
whether  he  had  a  Provincial  Major  in  his  custody  ?  He  found  Ma 
jor  Putnam  in  a  comfortless  condition — without  coat,  waistcoat,  or 
hose — the  remnant  of  his  cloathing  miserably  dirty  and  ragged — 
his  beard  long  and  squalid — his  legs  torn  by  thorns  and  briars— 
his  face  gashed  with  wounds  and  swolen  with  bruises.  Colonel 
Schuyler,  irritated  beyond  all  sufferance  at  such  a  sight,  could 
scarcely  restrain  his  speech  within  limits,  consistent  with  the  pru 
dence  of  a  prisoner  and  the  meekness  of  a  Christian.  Major  Put 
nam  was  immediately  treated  according  to  his  rank,  cloathed  in  a 
decent  manner,  and  supplied  with  money  by  tkat  liberal  and  sym 
pathetic  patron  of  the  distressed. 

The  capture  of  Frontenac  by  General  Bradstreet  afforded  oc 
casion  for  an  exchange  of  prisoners.  Colonel  Schuyler  was  com 
prehended  in  the  cartel.  A  generous  spirit  can  never  be  satis- 


2T6  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

fied  with  imposing  tasks  for  its  generosity  to  accomplish.  Appre 
hensive  if  it  should  be  known  that  Putnam  was  a  distinguished 
partizan,  his  liberation  might  be  retarded,  and  knowing  that  there 
•were  officers  who,  from  the  length  of  their  captivity,  had  a  claim 
of  priority  to  exchange,  he  had,  by  his  happy  address,  induced 
the  Governor  to  offer,  that  whatever  officer  he  might  think  pro 
per  to  nominate  should  be  included  in  the  present  cartel.  With 
great  politeness  in  manner,  but  seeming  indifference  as  to  object, 
he  expressed  his  warmest  acknowledgments  to  the  Governor,  and 
said,  "  There  is  an  old  man  here,  who  is  a  Provincial  Major,  and 
"  wishes  to  be  at  home  with  his  wife  and  children ;  he  can  do  no 
*'  good  here  or  any  where  else :  I  believe  your  Excellency  had 
"  better  keep  some  of  the  young  men,  who  have  no  wife  or  child- 
"  ren  to  care  for,  and  let  the  old  fellow  go  home  with  me."  This 
justifiable  finesse  had  the  desired  effect. 

At  the  house  of  Colonel  Schuyler,  Major  Putnam  became  ac 
quainted  with  Mrs.  Howe,  a  fair  captive,  whose  history  would  not 
be  read  without  emotion,  if  it  could  be  written  in  the  same  affecting 
manner  in  which  I  have  often  heard  it  told.   She  was  still  young 
and  handsome  herself,  though  she  had  two  daughters  of  marriage 
able  age.     Distress,  which  had  taken  somewhat  from  the  original 
redundancy  of  her  bloom,  and  added  a  softening  paleness  to  her 
cheeks,  rendered  her  appearance  the  more  engaging.    Her  face, 
that  seemed  to  have  been  formed  for  the  assemblage  of  dimples 
and  smiles,  was  clouded  with  care.     The  natural  sweetness  was 
not,  however,  soured  by  despondency    and  petulance,  but  chas 
tened  by  humility  and  resignation.    This  mild  daughter  of  sorrow 
looked  as  if  she  had  known  the  day  of  prosperity,  when  serenity 
and  gladness  of  soul  were  the  inmates  of  her  bosom.     That  day 
was  past,  and  the  once  lively  features  now  assumed  a  tender  me 
lancholy,  which  witnessed  her  irreparable  loss.      She  needed  not 
the  customary  weeds  of  mourning,  or  the  fallacious  pageantry  of 
•woe,  to  prove  her  widowed  state.  She  was  in  that  stage  of  affliction 
when  the  excess  is  so  far  abated  as  to  permit  the  subject  to  be 
drawn  into  conversation,  without  opening  the  wound  afresh.     It  is 
then  rather  a  source  of  pleasure  than  pain  to  dwell  upon  the  cir 
cumstances  in  narration.  Every  thing  conspired  to  make  her  story 
interesting.     Her  first  husband  had  been  killed  and  scalped  by  the 
Indians  some  years  before.  By  an  unexpected  assault,  in  1756,  upon 
Fort  Dummer,  where  she  then  happened  to  be  present  with  Mr. 
Howe,  her  second  husband,  the  savages  carried  the  fort,  murdered 
the  greater  part  of  the  garrison,  mangled  in  death  her  husband,  and 
led  her  away  with  seven  children  into  captivity.  She  was  for  some 
months  kept  with  them ;  and  during  their  rambles  she  was  fre- 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  277 

quently  on  the  point  of  perishing  with  hunger,  and  as  often  subjected 
to  hardships  seemingly  intolerable  to  one  of  so  delicate  a  frame. 
Some  time  after  the  career  of  her  miseries  began,  the  Indians  se 
lected  a  couple  of  their  young  men  to  marry  her  daughters.  The 
fright  and  disgust  which  the  intelligence  of  this  intention  occa 
sioned  to  these  poor  young  creatures,  added  infinitely  to  the  sor 
rows  and  perplexities  of  their  frantic  mother.  To  prevent  the 
hated  connection,  all  the  activity  of  female  resource  was  called 
into  exertion.  She  found  an  opportunity  of  conveying  to  the  Go 
vernor  a  petition,  that  her  daughters  might  be  received  into  a 
convent  for  the  sake  of  securing  the  salvation  of  their  souls.  Hap 
pily  the  pious  fraud  succeeded. 

About  the  same  time  the  savages  separated,  and  carried  off  her 
other  five  childi-en  into  different  tribes.  She  was  ransomed  by  an 
elderly  French  officer  for  four  hundred  livres.  Of  no  avail  were 
the  cries  of  this  tender  mother — a  mother  desolated  by  the  loss  of 
her  children,  who  were  thus  torn  from  her  fond  embraces,  and  re 
moved  many  hundred  miles  from  each  other,  into  the  utmost  re 
cesses  of  Canada.  With  them  (could  they  have  been  kept  toge 
ther)  she  would  most  willingly  have  wandered  to  the  extremities 
of  the  world,  and  accepted  as  a  desirable  portion  the  cruel  lot  of 
slavery  for  life.  But  she  was  precluded  from  the  sweet  hope  of 
ever  beholding  them  again.  The  insufferable  pang  of  parting,  and 
the  idea  of  eternal  separation,  planted  the  arrows  of  despair  deep 
in  her  soul.  Though  all  the  world  was  no  better  than  a  desert, 
and  all  its  inhabitants  were  then  indifferent  to  her,  yet  the  love 
liness  of  her  appearance  in  sorrow  had  awakened  affections, 
which,  in  the  aggravation  of  her  troubles,  were  to  become  a  new 
source  of  afflictions. 

The  officer  who  bought  her  of  the  Indians  had  a  son  who  also 
held  a  commission,  and  resided  with  his  father.  During  her  con 
tinuance  in  the  same  house,  at  St.  John's,  the  double  attachment 
of  the  father  and  the  son  rendered  her  situation  extremely  dis 
tressing.  It  is  true,  the  calmness  of  age  delighted  to  gaze  re 
spectfully  on  her  beauty  ;  but  the  impetuosity  of  youth  was  fired  to 
madness  by  the  sight  of  her  charms.  One  day,  the  son,  whose  at 
tentions  had  been  long  lavished  upon  her  in  vain,  finding  her  alone 
in  a  chamber,  forcibly  seized  her  hand,  and  solemnly  declared 
that  he  would  now  satiate  the  passion  which  she  had  so  long  re 
fused  to  indulge.  She  recurred  to  entreaties,  struggles,  and  tears, 
those  prevalent  female  weapons  which  the  distraction  of  danger 
not  less  than  the  promptness  of  genius  is  wont  to  supply  ;  while  he, 
in  the  delirium  of  vexation  and  desire,  snatched  a  dagger,  and 
swore  he  would  put  an  end  to  her  life  if  she  persisted  to  struggle. 


278  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

Mrs.  Howe,  assuming  the  dignity  of  conscious  virtue,  told  him 
it  was  what  she  most  ardently  wished,  and  begged  him  to  plunge 
the  poignard  through  her  heart,  since  the  mutual  importunities 
and  jealousies  of  such  rivals  had  rendered  her  life,  though  inno 
cent,  more  irksome  and  insupportable  than  death  itself.  Struck 
with  a  momentary  compunction,  he  seemed  to  relent,  and  relax 
his  hold;  and  she,  availing  herself  of  his  irresolution,  or  absence 
of  mind,  escaped  down  the  stairs.  In  her  disordered  state  she 
told  the  whole  transaction  to  his  father,  who  directed  her,  in  fu 
ture,  to  sleep  in  a  small  bed  at  the  foot  of  that  in  which  his  wife 
lodged.  The  affair  soon  reached  the  Governor's  ears,  and  the 
young  officer  was,  shortly  afterwards,  sent  on  a  tour  of  duty  to 
Detroit. 

This  gave  her  a  short  respite ;  but  she  dreaded  his  return,  and 
the  humiliating  insults  for  which  she  might  be  reserved.  Her 
children,  too,  were  ever  present  to  her  melancholy  mind.  A 
stranger,  a  widow,  a  captive,  she  knew  not  where  to  apply  for 
relief.  She  had  heard  of  the  name  of  Schuyler — she  was  yet  to 
learn,  that  it  was  only  another  appellation  for  the  friend  of  suffer 
ing  humanity.  As  that  excellent  man  was  on  his  way  from  Que 
bec  to  the  Jerseys,  under  a  parole,  for  a  limited  time,  she  came, 
•with  feeble  and  trembling  steps,  to  him.  The  same  maternal 
passion  which  sometimes  overcomes  the  timidity  of  nature  in  the 
birds,  when  plundered  of  their  callow  nestlings,  emboldened  her, 
notwithstanding  her  native  diffidence,  to  disclose  those  griefs 
•which  were  ready  to  devour  her  in  silence.  While  her  delicate 
aspect  was  heightened  to  a  glowing  blush,  for  fear  of  offending  by 
an  inexcusable  importunity,  or  of  transgressing  the  rules  of  pro 
priety,  by  representing  herself  as  being  an  object  of  admiration, 
she  told,  with  artless  simplicity,  all  the  story  of  her  woes.  Colonel 
Schuyler,  from  that  moment,  became  her  protector,  and  endea 
voured  to  procure  her  liberty.  The  person  who  purchased  her 
from  the  savages,  unwilling  to  part  with  so  fair  a  purchase,  de 
manded  a  thousand  livres  as  her  ransom.  But  Colonel  Schuyler, 
on  his  return  to  Quebec,  obtained  from  the  Governor  an  order, 
in  consequence  of  which  Mrs.  Howe  was  given  up  to  him  for 
four  hundred  livres ;  nor  did  his  active  goodness  rest  until  every 
one  of  her  five  sons  was  restored  to  her. 

Business  having  made  it  necessary  that  Colonel  Schuyler  should 
precede  the  prisoners  who  were  exchanged,  he  recommended  the 
fair  captive  to  the  protection  of  his  friend  Putnam.  She  had  just 
recovered  from  the  meazles  when  the  party  was  preparing  to  set 
off  for  New-England.  By  this  time  the  young  French  officer 
had  returned,  with  his  passion  rather  increased  than  abated  by 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  27f 

absence.  He  pursued  her  wheresoever  she  went,  and,  although 
he  could  make  no  advances  in  her  affection,  he  seemed  resolved, 
by  perseverance,  to  carry  his  point.  Mrs.  Howe,  terrified  by 
his  treatment,  was  obliged  to  keep  constantly  near  Major  Put 
nam,  who  informed  the  young  officer  that  he  should  protect  that 
lady  at  the  risk  of  his  life.* 

In  the  long  march  from  captivity,  through  an  inhospitable  wil 
derness,  encumbered  with  five  small  children,  she  suffered  incre 
dible  hardships.  Though  endowed  with  masculine  fortitude,  she 
was  truly  feminine  in  strength,  and  must  have  fainted  by  the  way, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  assistance  of  Major  Putnam.  There 
were  a  thousand  good  offices  which  the  helplessness  of  her  condi 
tion  demanded,  and  which  the  gentleness  of  his  nature  delighted 
to  perform.  He  assisted  in  leading  her  little  ones,  and  in  carry 
ing  them  over  the  swampy  grounds  and  runs  of  water,  with 
which  their  course  was  frequently  intersected.  He  mingled  his 
own  mess  with  that  of  the  widow  and  the  fatherless,  and  assisted 
them  in  supplying  and  preparing  their  provisions.  Upon  arriv 
ing  within  the  settlements,  they  experienced  a  reciprocal  regret 
at  separation,  and  were  only  consoled  by  the  expectation  of  soon 
mingling  in  the  embraces  of  their  former  acquaintances  and 
dearest  connections. 

After  the  conquest  of  Canada,  in  1760,  she  made  a  journey  to 
Quebec^  in  order  to  bring  back  her  two  daughters,  whom  she  had 
left  in  a  convent.  She  found  one  of  them  married  to  a  French 
officer.  The  other  having  contracted  a  great  fondness  for  the  re 
ligious  sisterhood,  with  reluctance  consented  to  leave  them  and 
return. 

We  now  arrive  at  the  period  when  the  prowess  of  Britain, 
victorious  alike  by  sea  and  by  land,  in  the  new  and  in  the  old 
world,  had  elevated  that  name  to  the  zenith  of  national  glory. 
The  conquest  of  Quebec  opened  the  way  for  the  total  reduction 
of  Canada.  On  the  side  of  the  Lakes,  Arnherst  having  captured 
the  posts  of  Ticonderoga  and  Crown-Point,  applied  himself  to 
strengthen  the  latter.  Putnam,  who  had  been  raised  to  the  rank 
of  Lieutenant-Colonel,  and  present  at  these  operations,  was  em 
ployed  the  remainder  of  this  and  some  part  of  the  succeeding 
season,  in  superintending  the  parties  which  were  detached  to  pro 
cure  timber  and  other  materials  for  the  fortification. 


*  Two  or  three  incidents  respecting  Mrs.  Howe,  which  were  received 
by  the  author  from  General  Putnam,  and  inserted  in  the  former  editions, 
are  omitted  in  this,  as  they  appeared,  on  farther  information,  to  be  mis 
takes. 


280 

In  1760,  General  Amherst,  a  sagacious,  humane,  and  experi 
enced  commander,  planned  the  termination  of  the  war  in  Canada, 
by  a  bloodless  conquest.  For  this  purpose,  three  armies  were 
destined  to  co-operate,  by  different  routes,  against  Montreal,  the 
only  remaining  place  of  strength  the  enemy  held  in  that  country. 
The  corps  formerly  commanded  by  General  Wolfe,  now  by  Gene 
ral  Murray,  was  ordered  to  ascend  the  river  St.  Lawrence;  an 
other,  under  Colonel  Haviland,  to  penetrate  by  the  Isle  Aux 
Noix ;  and  the  third,  consisting  of  about  ten  thousand  men,  com 
manded  by  the  General  himself,  after  passing  up  the  Mohawk- 
River,  and  taking  its  course  by  the  Lake  Ontario,  was  to  form  a 
junction  by  falling  down  the  St.  Lawrence.  In  this  progress,  more 
than  one  occasion  presented  itself  to  manifest  the  intrepidity  and 
soldiership  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Putnam.  Two  armed  vessels 
obstructed  the  passage,  and  prevented  the  attack  on  Oswegatchie. 
Putnam,  with  one  thousand  men,  in  fifty  batteaux,  undertook  to 
board  them.  This  dauntless  officer,  ever  sparing  of  the  blood  of 
others,  as  prodigal  of  his  own,  to  accomplish  it  with  the  less  loss, 
put  himself  (with  a  chosen  crew,  a  beetle  and  wedges)  in  the  van, 
with  a  design  to  wedge  the  rudders,  so  that  the  vessels  should  not 
be  able  to  turn  their  broadsides,  or  perform  any  other  manoeuvre. 
All  the  men  in  his  little  fleet  were  ordered  to  strip  to  their  waist 
coats,  and  advance  at  the  same  time.  He  promised,  if  he  lived, 
to  join  and  show  them  the  way  up  the  sides.  Animated  by  so  dar 
ing  an  example,  they  moved  swiftly,  in  profound  stillness,  as  to 
certain  victory  or  death.  The  people  on  board  the  ships,  behold 
ing  the  good  countenance  with  which  they  approached,  ran  one  of 
the  vessels  on  shore,  and  struck  the  colours  of  the  other.  Had  it 
not  been  for  the  dastardly  conduct  of  the  ship's  company  in  the  lat 
ter,  who  compelled  the  Captain  to  haul  down  his  ensign,  he  would 
have  given  the  assailants  a  bloody  reception  :  for  the  vessels  were 
well  provided  with  spars,  nettings,  and  every  customary  instru 
ment  of  annoyance  as  well  as  defence. 

It  now  remained  to  attack  the  fortress,  which  stood  on  an  island, 
and  seemed  to  have  been  rendered  inaccessible  by  an  high  abattis 
of  black-ash,  that  every  where  projected  over  the  water.  Lieute 
nant-Colonel  Putnam  proposed  a  mode  of  attack,  and  offered  his 
services  to  carry  it  into  effect.  The  General  approved  the  pro 
posal.  Our  partizan,  accordingly,  caused  a  sufficient  number  of 
boats  to  be  fitted  for  the  enterprize.  The  sides  of  each  boat  were 
surrounded  with  fascines,  musket  proof,  which  covered  the  men. 
completely.  A  wide  plank,  twenty  feet  in  length,  was  then  fitted 
to  every  boat  in  such  manner,  by  having  an  angular  piece  sawed 
from  one  extremity,  that,  when  fastened  by  ropes  on  both  sides  of 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  281 

the  bow,  it  might  be  raised  or  lowered  at  pleasure.  The  design 
was,  that  the  plank  should  be  held  erect,  while  the  oarsmen  forc 
ed  the  bow  with  the  utmost  exertion  against  the  abatis  ;  and  that 
afterwards  being  dropped  on  the  pointed  brush,  it  should  serve 
as  a  kind  of  bridge  to  assist  the  men  in  passing  over  them.  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  Putnam  having  made  his  dispositions  to  attempt 
the  escalade  in  many  places  at  the  same  moment,  advanced  with 
his  boats  in  admirable  order.  The  garrison  perceiving  these  ex 
traordinary  and  unexpected  machines,  waited  not  the  assault,  but 
capitulated.  Lieutenant-Colonel  Putnam  was  particularly  ho 
noured  by  General  Amherst,  for  his  ingenuity  in  this  invention, 
and  promptitude  in  its  execution.  The  three  armies  arrived  at 
Montreal  within  two  days  of  each  other  ;  and  the  conquest  of  Ca 
nada  became  complete  without  the  loss  of  a  single  drop  of  blood. 

At  no  great  distance  from  Montreal  stands  the  savage  village 
Called  Cochnawaga.  Here  our  partizan  found  the  Indian  chief 
who  had  formerly  made  him  prisoner.  That  Indian  was  highly 
delighted  to  see  his  old  acquaintance,  whom  he  entertained  in  his 
own  well-built  stone  house  with  great  friendship  and  hospitality ; 
•while  his  guest  did  not  discover  less  satisfaction  in  an  opportunity 
of  shaking  the  brave  savage  by  the  hand,  and  proffering  him  pro* 
tection  in  this  reverse  of  his  military  fortunes. 

When  the  belligerent  powers  were  considerably  exhausted,  a 
rupture  took  place  between  Great-Britain  and  Spain,  in  the  month 
of  January,  1762,  and  an  expedition  was  formed  that  campaign, 
under  Lord  Albemarle,  against  the  Havannah.  A  body  of  Pro 
vincials,  composed  of  five  hundred  men  from  the  Jerseys,  eight 
hundred  from  New- York,  and  one  thousand  from  Connecticut, 
joined  his  Lordship.  General  Lyman,  who  raised  the  regiment 
of  one  thousand  men  in  Connecticut,  being  the  senior  officer,  com 
manded  the  whole :  of  course,  the  immediate  command  of  his 
regiment  devolved  upon  Lieutenant-Colonel  Putnam.  The  fleet 
that  carried  these  troops  sailed  from  New-York,  and  arrived  safely 
on  the  coast  of  Cuba.  There  a  terrible  storm  arose,  and  tha 
transport  in  which  Lieutenant-Colonel  Putnam  had  embarked, 
with  five  hundred  men,  was  wrecked  on  a  rift  of  craggy  rocks. 
The  weather  was  so  tempestuous,  and  the  surf,  which  ran  moun 
tain-high,  dashed  with  such  violence  against  the  ship,  that  the 
most  experienced  seamen  expected  it  would  soon  part  asunder. 
The  rest  of  the  fleet,  so  far  from  being  able  to  afford  assistance, 
with  difficulty  rode  out  the  gale.  In  this  deplorable  situation,  as 
the  only  expedient  by  which  they  could  be  saved,  strict  order  was 
maintained,  and  all  those  people  who  best  understood  the  use  of 

2O 


282  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

tools,  instantly  employed  in  constructing  rafts  from  spars,  plank^ 
and  whatever  other  materials  could  be  procured.  There  hap 
pened  to  be  on  board  a  large  quantity  of  strong  cords,  (the  same 
that  are  used  in  the  whale  fishery)  which,  being  fastened  to  the 
rafts,  after  the  first  had  with  inconceivable  hazard  reached  the 
shore,  were  of  infinite  service  in  preventing  the  others  from  driv 
ing  out  to  sea,  as  also  in  dragging  them  athwart  the  billows  to  the 
beach ;  by  which  means  every  man  was  finally  saved.  With  the 
same  presence  of  mind  to  take  advantage  of  circumstances,  and 
the  same  precaution  to  prevent  confusion  on  similar  occasions, 
how  many  valuable  lives,  prematurely  lost,  might  have  been  pre 
served  as  blessings  to  their  families,  their  friends,  and  their  coun 
try  !  As  soon  as  all  were  landed,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Putnam  for 
tified  his  camp,  that  he  might  not  be  exposed  to  insult  from  the 
inhabitants  of  the  neighbouring  districts,  or  from  those  of  Cartha- 
gena,  who  were  but  twenty-four  miles  distant.  Here  the  party 
remained  unmolested  several  days,  until  the  storm  had  so  much 
abated  as  to  permit  the  convoy  to  take  them  off.  They  soon  joined 
the  troops  before  the  Havannah,  who,  having  been  several  weeks 
in  that  unhealthy  climate,  already  began  to  grow  exti-emely  sickly.* 
The  opportune  arrival  of  the  Provincial  reinforcement,  in  perfect 
health,  contributed  not  a  little  to  forward  the  works,  and  hasten 
the  reduction  of  that  important  place.  But  the  Provincials  suf 
fered  so  miserably  by  sickness  afterwards,  that  very  few  ever  re 
turned  to  their  native  land  again. 

Although  a  general  peace  among  the  European  powers  was  ra 
tified  in  1763,  yet  the  savages  on  our  western  frontiers  still  con 
tinued  their  hostilities.  After  they  had  taken  several  posts,  Ge 
neral  Bradstreet  was  sent,  in  1764,  with  an  army,  against  them. 
Colonel  Putnam,  then,  for  the  first  time,  appointed  to  the  com 
mand  of  a  regiment,  was  on  the  expedition,  as  was  the  Indian 
chief  whom  I  have  several  times  had  occasion  to  mention  as  his 
capturer,  at  the  head  of  one  hundred  Cochnawaga  warriors.  Be- 

*  Colonel  Haviland1,  an  accomplished  officer,  several  times  mentioned 
in  these  memoirs,  who  brought  to  America  a  regiment  of  one  thousand 
Irish  veterans,  had  but  seventy  men  remaining  alive  when  he  left  the  Ha 
vannah.  Colonel  Haviland,  during  this  siege,  having  once  with  his  re 
giment  engaged  and  routed  five  hundred  Spaniards,  met  Colonel  Putnam 
on  his  return,  and  said — "  Putnam,  give  me  a  pinch  of  snuff."  "  I  never 
"  carry  any,"  returned  Putnam.  "  I  have  always  just  such  luck,"  cried 
Havilaud;  "  the  rascally  Spaniards  have  shot  away  my  pocket,  snuff-box 
"  and  all." 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  28S 

ibre  General  Bradstreet  reached  Detroit,  which  the  savages  in 
vested,  Captain  D'Ell,  the  faithful  friend  and  intrepid  fellow. 
Soldier  of  Colonel  Putnam,  had  been  slain  in  a  desperate  sally.  He 
having  been  detached  with  five  hundred  men,  in  1763,  by  General 
Amherst,  to  raise  the  siege,  found  means  of  throwing  the  succour 
into  the  fort.  But  the  garrison,  commanded  by  Major  Gladwine, 
a  brave  and  sensible  officer,  had  been  so  much  weakened,  by  the 
lurking  and  insidious  mode  of  war  practised  by  the  savages, 
that  not  a  man  could  be  spared  to  co-operate  in  an  attack  upon 
them.  The  Commandant  would  even  have  dissuaded  Captaia 
D'Ell  from  the  attempt,  on  account  of  the  great  disparity  in  num 
bers  ;  but  the  latter,  relying  on  the  discipline  and  courage  of  his 
men,  replied,  "  Ood  forbid  that  I  should  ever  disobey  the  orders 
**  of  my  General,"  and  immediately  disposed  them  for  action.  It 
was  obstinate  and  bloody ;  but  the  vastly  superior  number  of  the 
savages  enabled  them  to  enclose  Captain  D'Ell's  party  on  every 
side,  and  compelled  him,  finally,  to  fight  his  way,  in  retreat  from 
one  stone-house  to  another.  Having  halted  to  breathe  a  moment, 
he  saw  one  of  his  bravest  Serjeants  lying  at  a  small  distance, 
wounded  through  the  thigh,  and  wallowing  in  his  blood.  Where 
upon  he  desired  some  of  the  men  to  run  and  bring  the  Serjeant  to 
the  house,  but  they  declined  it.  Then  declaring,  "  that  he  never 
"  would  leave  so  brave  a  soldier  in  the  field  to  be  tortured  by  the 
"  savages,"  he  ran  and  .endeavoured  to  help  him  up — at  the  in 
stant  a  volley  of  shot  dropped  them  both  dead  together.  The 
party  continued  retreating  from  house  to  house  until  they  re 
gained  the  fort ;  where  it  was  found  the  conftict  had  been  so  sharp, 
and  lasted  so  long,  that  only  fifty  men  remained  alive  of  the  five 
hundred  who  had  sallied. 

Upon  the  arrival  of  General  Bradstreet,  the  savages  saw  that 
all  further  efforts,  in  arms,  would  be  vain,  and  accordingly, 
after  many  fallacious  proposals  for  a  peace,  and  frequent  tergi 
versations  in  the  ncgociation,  they  concluded  a  treaty,  which  ended 
the  war  in  America. 

Colonel  Putnam,  at  the  expiration  of  ten  years  from  his  first 
receiving  a  commission,  after  having  seen  as  much  service,  en 
dured  as  many  hardships,  encountered  as  many  dangers,  and 
acquired  as  many  laurels  as  any  officer  of  his  rank,  with  great 
satisfaction  laid  aside  his  uniform,  and  returned  to  his  plough. 
The  various  and  uncommon  scenes  of  war  in  which  he  had  acted 
a  respectable  part,  his  intercourse  with  the  world,  and  intimacy 
with  some  of  the  first  characters  in  the  army,  joined  with  occa- 
•sional  reading,  had  not  only  brought  into  view  whatever  talents  lie 


284  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

possessed  from  nature,  but,  at  the  same  time,  had  extended  his 
knowledge,  and  polished  his  manners,  to  a  considerable  degree. 
Not  having  become  inflated  with  pride,  or  forgetful  of  his  old 
connections,  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  possess  entirely  the  good 
will  of  his  fellow  citizens.  No  character  stood  fairer  in  the  public 
«ye  for  integrity,  bravery,  and  patriotism.  He  was  employed  in 
several  offices  in  his  own  town,  and  not  unfrequently  elected  to 
represent  it  in  the  General  Assembly.  The  year  after  his  return 
to  private  life,  the  minds  of  men  were  strangely  agitated,  by  an 
attempt  of  the  British  Parliament  to  introduce  the  memorable 
Stamp  Act  in  America.  This  germe  policy,  whose  growth  was 
repressed  by  the  moderate  temperature  in  which  it  was  kept  by 
some  administrations,  did  not  fully  disclose  its  fruit  until  nearly 
eleven  years  afterwards.  All  the  world  knows  how  it  then 
ripened  into  a  civil  war. 

On  the  twenty-second  day  of  March,  1765,  the  Stamp  Act  re 
ceived  the  royal  assent.  It  was  to  take  place  in  America  on  the 
first  day  of  November  following.  This  innovation  spread  a 
sudden  and  universal  alarm.  The  political  pulse  in  the  Provinces, 
from  Main  to  Georgia,  throbbed  in  sympathy.  The  Assemblies, 
in  most  of  these  colonies,  that  they  might  oppose  it  legally  and  in 
concert,  appointed  Delegates  to  confer  together  on  the  subject. 
This  first  Congress  met,  early  in  October,  at  New- York.  They 
agreed  upon  a  Declaration  of  Rights  and  Grievances  of  the  Co 
lonists  ;  together  with  separate  Addresses  to  the  King,  Lords,  and 
Commons  of  Great-Britain.  In  the  mean  time,  the  people  had 
determined,  in  order  to  prevent  the  stamped  paper  from  being 
distributed,  that  the  Stamp-Masters  should  not  enter  on  the  ex 
ecution  of  their  office.  That  appointment,  in  Connecticut,  had 
been  conferred  upon  Mr.  Ingersol,  a  very  dignified,  sensible,  and 
learned  native  of  the  colony,  who,  upon  being  solicited  to  resign, 
did  not,  in  the  first  instance,  give  a  satisfactory  answer.  In  con 
sequence  of  which,  a  great  number  of  the  substantial  yeomanry, 
on  horseback,  furnished  with  provisions  for  themselves,  and  pro 
vender  for  their  horses,  assembled  in  the  eastern  counties,  and 
began  their  march  for  New-Haven,  to  receive  the  resignation  of 
Mr.  Ingersol.  A  junction  with  another  body  was  to  have  been 
formed  in  Branford.  But  having  learned  at  Hartford,  that  Mr. 
Ingersol  would  be  in  town  the  next  day  to  claim  protection  from 
the  Assembly,  they  took  quarters  there,  and  kept  out  patroles 
during  the  whole  night,  to  prevent  his  arrival  without  their  know 
ledge.  The  succeeding  morning  they  resumed  their  march,  and 
met  Mr.  Ingersol  in  Wethersfield.  They  told  him  their  business, 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  285 

and  lie,  after  some  little  hesitation,  mounted  on  a  round  table, 
read  his  resignation.*  That  finished,  the  multitude  desired  him 
to  cry  out  *'  liberty  and  property"  three  times;  which  he  did,  and 
\fas  answered  by  three  loud  huzzas.  He  then  dined  with  some 
of  the  principal  men  at  a  tavern,  by  whom  he  was  treated  with 
great  politeness,  and  afterwards  was  escorted  by  about  five  hun 
dred  horse  to  Hartford,  where  he  again  read  his  resignation, 
amidst  the  unbounded  acclamations  of  the  people.  I  have  chosen 
to  style  this  collection  the  yeomanry,  the  multitude,  or  the  people, 
because  I  could  not  make  use  of  the  English  word  mod,  which 
generally  signifies  a  disorderly  concurrence  of  the  rabble,  without 
conveying  an  erroneous  idea.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add, 
that  the  people,  their  objects  being  effected,  without  offering  dis 
turbance,  dispersed  to  their  homes.f 

Colonel  Putnam,  who  instigated  the  people  to  these  measures, 
was  prevented  from  attending  by  accident.  But  he  was  deputed 
«oon  after,  with  two  other  gentlemen,  to  wait  on  Governor  Fitch 
on  the  same  subject.  The  questions  of  the  Governor,  and  an 
swers  of  Putnam,  will  serve  to  indicate  the  spirit  of  the  times. 
After  some  conversation,  the  Governor  asked,  "  What  he  should 
*'  do  if  the  stamped  paper  should  be  sent  to  him  by  the  King's 
"  authority  ?"  Putnam  replied,  "lock  it  up  until  we  shall  visit 

*  The  curious  may  be  pleased  to  know  that  the  resignation  was  ex 
pressed  in  these  explicit  terms : 

Wcthertfield,  September  9th,  1765. 

"  I  do  hereby  promise,  that  I  never  will  receive  any  stamped  papers 
"  which  may  arrive  from  Europe,  in  consequence  of  an  act  lately  passed 
"in  the  Parliament  of  Great-Britain;  nor  officiate  as  Stamp-Master  or 
"  Distributer  of  Stamps,  within  the  colony  of  Connecticut,  either  directly 
"  or  indirectly.  And  I  do  hereby  notify  to  all  the  inhabitants  of  his  Ma- 
"  jesty's  colony  of  Connecticut  (notwithstanding  the  said  office  or  trust 
"  has  been  committed  to  me)  not  to  apply  to  me,  ever  after,  for  any 
"  stamped  paper ;  hereby  declaring  that  I  do  resign  the  said  office,  and  execute 
"  these  PRESENTS  of  my  own  FREE  WILL  AXD  ACCORD,  without  any 
"  equivocation  or  mental  reservation. 

"  In  witness  whereof  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand, 

"J.  INGERSOL." 

f  To  give  a  trait  of  the  urbanity  that  prevailed,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 
mention  a  jest  that  passed  in  the  cavalcade  to  Hartford,  and  was  received 
with  the  most  perfect  good  humour.  Mr.  Ingersol,  who  by  chance  rode 
a  white  horse,  being  asked  "  What  he  thought,  to  find  himself  attended 
"  by  such  a  retinue?" — replied,  "  that  he  had  now  a  clearer  idea  than 
"  ever  he  had  before  conceived  of  that  passage  in  the  Revelations, 
"  which  describes  Death  on  a  pale  hone,  and  hell  follcnving  him." 


2Sfi  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

"  you  again."  "And  what  will  you  do  then?"  "We  shall  ex- 
"  pect  you  to  give  us  the  key  of  the  room  in  which  it  is  deposited  j 
"  and,  if  you  think  fit,  in  order  to  screen  yourself  from  blame, 
**  you  may  forewarn  us,  upon  our  peril,  not  to  enter  the 
"  room."  "  And  what  will  you  do  afterwards?"  "  Send  it  safely 
*'  back  again."  "  But  if  I  should  refuse  admission?"  "  In  such 
"  a  case,  your  house  will  be  levelled  with  the  dust  in  five  mi- 
"  nutes."  It  was  supposed,  that  a  report  of  this  conversation 
•was  one  reason  why  the  stamped  paper  was  never  sent  from  New. 
York  to  Connecticut. 

Such  unanimity  in  the  Provincial  Assemblies,  and  decision  in 
the  yeomamy,  carried  beyond  the  Atlantic  a  conviction  of  the 
inexpediency  of  attempting  to  enforce  the  new  Revenue  System. 
The  Stamp  Act  being  repealed,  and  the  measures  in  a  manner 
quieted,  Colonel  Putnam  continued  to  labour  with  his  own  hands, 
at  farming,  witlvout  interruption,  except,  for  a  little  time,  by  the 
loss  of  the  first  joint  of  his  right  thumb  from  one  accident,  and 
the  compound  fracture  of  his  right  thigh  from  another :  that  thigh, 
being  rendered  nearly  an  inch  shorter  than  the  left,  occasioned 
him  ever  to  limp  in  his  walk. 

The  Provincial  officers  and  soldiers  from  Connecticut,  who 
Survived  the  conquest  of  the  Havannah,  appointed  General  Ly- 
man  to  receive  the  remainder  of  their  prize-money,  in  England. 
A  company,  composed  partly  of  military,  and  partly  of  other 
gentlemen,  whose  object  was  to  obtain  from  the  Crown  *a  grant 
of  land  on  the  Mississippi,  also  committed  to  him  the  negociation 
of  their  affairs.  When  several  years  had  elapsed  in  applications, 
a  grant  of  land  was  obtained.  In  1770,  General  Lyman,  with 
Colonel  Putnam,  and  two  or  three  others,  went  to  explore  the 
situation.  After  a  tedious  voyage,  and  a  laborious  passage  up  the 
Mississippi,  they  accomplished  their  business. 

General  Lyman  came  back  to  Connecticut  with  the  explorers, 
but  soon  returned  to  the  Natchez :  there  formed  an  establishment 
and  laid  his  bones.  Colonel  Putnam  placed  some  labourers  with 
provisions  and  farming  utensils  upon  his  location ;  but  the  increas 
ing  troubles  shortly  after  ruined  the  prospect  of  deriving  any  ad 
vantage  from  that  quarter. 

In  speaking  of  the  troubles  that  ensued,  I  not  only  omit  to  say 
any  thing  on  the  obnoxious  claim  asserted  in  the  British  declara 
tory  act,  the  continuation  of  the  duty  on  tea,  the  attempt  to  ob 
trude  that  article  upon  the  Americans,  the  abortion  of  this  pro 
ject,  the  Boston  Port  Bill,  the  alteration  of  the  charter  of  Massa 
chusetts,  and  other  topics  of  universal  notoriety ;  but  even  wave 
all  discussion  of  irritations  on  the  one  part,  and  supplications  on 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  28T 

the  other,  which  preceded  the  war  between  Great-Britain  and  her 
colonies  on  this  continent.  It  will  ever  be  acknowledged  by  those 
•who  were  best  acquainted  with  facts,  and  it  should  be  made  known 
to  posterity,  that  the  king  of  England  had  not,  in  his  extensive 
dominions,  subjects  more  loyal,  more  dutiful,  or  more  zealous  for 
his  glory  than  the  Americans ;  and  that  nothing  short  of  a  melan 
choly  persuasion,  that  the  u  measures  which  for  many  years  had 
**  been  systematically  pursued  by  his  ministers,  were  calculated  to 
"  subvert  their  constitutions,"  could  have  dissolved  their  powerful 
attachment  to  that  kingdom  which  they  fondly  called  their  fmrent 
country.  Here,  without  digression  to  develope  the  cause,  or  de 
scribe  the  progress,  it  may  suffice  to  observe,  the  dispute  now 
verged  precipitately  to  an  awful  crisis.  Most  considerate  men 
foresaw  it  would  terminate  in  blood.  But  rather  than  suffer  the 
chains,  which  they  believed  in  preparation,  to  be  rivetted,  they 
nobly  determined  to  sacrifice  their  lives.  In  vain  did  they  depre 
cate  the  infatuation  of  those  transatlantic  counsels  which  drove  them 
to  deeds  of  desperation.  Convinced  of  the  rectitude  of  their  cause, 
and  doubtful  of  the  issue,  they  felt  the  most  painful  solicitude  for 
the  fate  of  their  country,  on  contemplating  the  superior  strength  of 
the  nation  with  which  it  was  to  contend.  America,  thinly  inha 
bited,  under  thirteen  distinct  colonial  governments,  could  have 
little  hope  of  success,  but  from  the  protection  of  providence,  and 
the  unconquerable  spirit  of  freedom  which  pervaded  the  mass  of 
the  people.  It  is  true,  since  the  peace  she  had  surprisingly  in 
creased  in  wealth  and  population;  but  the  resources  of  Britain  al 
most  exceeded  credibility  or  conception.  It  is  not  wonderful,  then, 
that  some  good  citizens,  of  weaker  nerves,  recoiled  at  the  pros 
pect  ;  while  others,  who  had  been  officers  in  the  late  war,  or  who 
had  witnessed,  by  travelling,  the  force  of  Britain,  stood  aloof.  All 
eyes  were  now  turned  to  find  the  men  who,  possessed  of  military 
experience,  would  dare,  in  the  approaching  hour  of  severest  trial, 
to  lead  their  undisciplined  fellow-citizens  to  battle.  For  none 
were  so  stupid  as  not  to  comprehend,  that  want  of  success  would 
involve  the  leaders  in  the  punishment  of  rebellion.  Putnam  was 
among  the  first  and  most  conspicuous  who  stepped  forth.  Although, 
the  Americans  had  been,  by  many  who  wished  their  subjugation, 
indiscreetly  as  indiscriminately  stigmatized  with  the  imputation 
of  cowardice — he  felt — he  knew  for  himself,  he  was  no  coward ; 
and  from  what  he  had  seen  and  known,  he  believed  that  his  coun 
trymen,  driven  to  the  extremity  of  defending  their  rights  by  arms, 
would  find  no  difficulty  in  wiping  away  the  ungenerous  aspersion. 
As  he  happened  to  be  often  at  Boston,  he  held  many  conversations, 
on  these  subjects,  with  General  Gage,  the  British  Commander  ia 


288  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

Chief,  Lord  Percy,  Colonel  Sheriff,  Colonel  Small,  and  many  of 
ficers  with  whom  he  had  formerly  served,  who  were  now  at  the 
Head-Quarters.     Being  often  questioned,  "  in  case  the  dispute 
"  should  proceed  to  hostilities,  what  part  he  would  really  take  ?" 
he  always  answered,  "  with  his  country ;  and  that,  let  whatever 
"  might  happen,  he  was  prepared  to   abide  the  consequence." 
Being  interrogated,  "  whether  he,  who  had  been  a  witness  to  the 
"  prowess  and  victories  of  the  British  fleets  and  armies,  did  not 
"  think  them  equal  to  the  conquest  of  a  country  which  was  not  the 
"  owner  of  a  single  ship,  regiment,  or  magazine?"    he  rejoined, 
that  "  he  could  only  say,  justice  would  be  on  our  side,  and  the 
"  event  with  providence:  but  that  he  had  calculated,  if  it  required 
"  six  years  for  the  combined  forces  of  England  and  her  colonies 
"  to  conquer  such  a  feeble  country  as  Canada,  it  would,  at  least, 
"  take  a  very  long  time  for  England  alone  to  overcome  her  own 
"  widely  extended  colonies,  which  were  much  stronger  than  Ca- 
"  nada :  That  when  men  fought  for  every  thing  dear,   in  what 
u  they  believed  to  be  the  most  sacred  of  all  causes,  and  in  their  own 
"  native  land,  they  would  have  great  advantages  over  their  ene- 
"  mies,  who  were  not  in  the  same  situation ;  and  that,  having 
"  taken  into  view  all  circumstances,  for  his  own  part,  he  fully  be- 
"  lieved  that  America  would  not  be  so  easily  conquered  by  Eng- 
"  land  as  those  gentlemen  seemed  to  expect."    Being  once,  in  par 
ticular,  asked,  "  whether  he  did  not  seriously  believe  that  a  well 
"  appointed  British  army  of  five  thousand  veterans  could  march 
"  through  the  whole  continent  of  America  ?"  he  replied  briskly, 
"  no  doubt,  if  they  behaved  civilly,  and  paid  well  for  every  thing 
"  they  wanted; — but" — after  a  moment's  pause  added — "  if  they 
"  should  attempt  it  in  a  hostile  manner  (though  the  American  men 
"  were  out  of  the  question)  the  women,  with  their  ladles  and  broom- 
"  sticks,  would  knock  them  all  on  the  head  before  they  had  got 
"  half  way  through."   This  was  the  tenor,  our  hero  hath  often  told 
me,  of  these  amicable  interviews ;  and  thus,  as  it  commonly  hap 
pens  in  disputes  about  future  events  which  depend  on  opinion,  they 
parted  without  conviction,  no  more  to  meet  in  a  friendly  manner, 
until  after  the  appeal  should  have  been  made  to  Heaven,  and  the  is 
sue  confirmed  by  the  sword.    In  the  mean  time,  to  provide  against 
the  worst  contingency,    the  militia  in  the  several  colonies  was 
sedulously  trained  ;  and  those  select  companies,  the  flower  of  our 
youth,  which  were  denominated  minutemen,   agreeably  to  the  in 
dication  of  their  name,  held  themselves  in  readiness  to  march  at  a 
moment's  warning. 

At  length  the  fatal  day  arrived,  when  hostilities  commenced. 
General  Gage,  in  the  evening  of  the  18th  of  April,  1775,  detached 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  289 

from  Boston,  the  grenadiers  and  light  infantry  of  the  army,  com 
manded  by  Lieutenant-Colonel  Smith,  to  destory  some  military 
and  other  stores  deposited  by  the  province  at  Concord.  About 
sunrise  the  next  morning,  the  detachment,  on  marching  into  Lex 
ington,  fired  upon  a  company  of  militia  who  had  just  re-assembled; 
for  having  been  alarmed  late  at  night,  with  reports  that  the  regu 
lars  were  advancing  to  demolish  the  stores,  they  collected  on  their 
parade,  and  were  dismissed  with  orders  to  re-assemble  at  beat  of 
drum.  It  is  established  by  the  affidavits  of  more  than  thirty  per 
sons  who  were  present,  that  the  first  fire,  which  killed  eight  of  the 
militia,  then  beginning  to  disperse,  was  given  by  the  British,  with 
out  provocation.  The  spark  of  war,  thus  kindled,  ran  with  un 
exampled  rapidity,  and  raged  with  unwotited  violence.  To  repel 
the  aggression,  the  people  of  the  bordering  towns  spontaneously 
rushed  to  arms,  and  poured  their  scattering  shot  from  every  con 
venient  station  upon  the  regulars,  who,  after  marching  to  Concord, 
and  destroying  the  magazine,  would  have  found  their  retreat  in 
tercepted,  had  they  not  been  reinforced  by  Lord  Percy,  with  the 
battalion  companies  of  three  regiments,  and  a  body  of  marines. 
Notwithstanding  the  junction,  they  were  hard  pushed,  and  pursued 
until  they  could  find  protection  from  their  ships.  Of  the  British, 
two  hundred  and  eighty-three  were  killed,  wounded,  and  taken. 
The  Americans  had  thirty-nine  killed,  nineteen  wounded,  and  two 
made  prisoners. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  celerity  with  which  the  intelligence 
flew  every  where,  that  blood  had  been  shed  by  the  British  troops. 
The  country,  in  motion,  exhibited  but  one  scene  of  hurry,  prepa 
ration  and  revenge.  Putnam,  who  was  plowing  when  he  heard 
the  news,  left  his  plough  in  the  middle  of  the  field,  unyoked  his 
team,  and  without  waiting  to  change  his  clothes,  set  off  for  the 
theatre  of  action.  But  finding  the  British  retreated  to  Boston, 
and  invested  by  a  sufficient  force  to  watch  their  movements,  he 
came  back  to  Connecticut,  levied  a  regiment,  under  authority  of 
the  legislature,  and  speedily  returned  to  Cambridge.*  He  was 

*  An  article,  void  of  foundation,  mentioning  an  interview  between  Ge 
neral  Gage  and  General  Putnam,  appeared  in  the  English  Gazettes,  in  these 
words  :  '  General  Gage,  viewing  the  American  army  with  his  telescope, 
'  saw  General  Putnam  in  it,  which  surprised  him ;  and  he  contrived  to 
'  get  a  message  delivered  to  him,  that  he  wanted  to  speak  to  him.  Put- 
'  nam,  without  any  hesitation,  waited  upon  him.  General  Gage  showed 

•  him  his  fortifications,  and  advised  him  to  lay  down  his  arms.     General 

*  Putnam  replied,  he  could  force  his  fortifications  in  half  an  hour,  and  ad- 
'  vised  General  Gage  to  go  on  board  the  ships  with  his  troops.' 

2P 


590  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

now  promoted  to  be  a  Major-General  on  the  Provincial  staff,  by 
his  colony ;  and,  in  a  little  time,  confirmed  by  Congress,  in  the 
same  rank  on  the  Continental  establishment.  General  Ward,  of 
Massachusetts,  by  common  consent,  commanded  the  whole ;  and 
the  celebrated  Dr.  Warren  was  made  a  Major-General. 

Not  long  after  this  period,  the  British  Commander  in  Chief 
found  the  means  to  convey  a  proposal,  privately,  to  General  Put 
nam,  that  if  he  would  relinquish  the  rebel  party,  he  might  rely 
upon  being  made  a  Major-General  on  the  British  establishment, 
and  receiving  a  great  pecuniaiy  compensation  for  his  services. 
General  Putnam  spurned  at  the  offer  ;  which,  however,  he  thought 
prudent  at  that  time  to  conceal  from  public  notice. 

It  could  scarcely  have  been  expected,  but  by  those  credulous  pa 
triots  who  were  prone  to  believe  whatever  they  ardently  desired, 
that  officers  assembled  from  colonies  distinct  in  their  manners  and 
prejudices,  selected  from  laborious  occupations,  to  command  a  he 
terogeneous  crowd  of  their  equals,  compelled  to  be  soldiers  only  by 
the  spur  of  occasion,  should  long  be  able  to  preserve  harmony 
among  themselves,  and  subordination  among  their  followers.  As 
the  fact  would  be  a  phenomenon,  the  idea  was  treated  with  mirth 
and  mockery  by  the  friends  to  the  British  government.  Yet  this 
unshaken  embryo  of  a  military  corps,  composed  of  militia,  minute- 
men,  volunteers,  and  levies,  with  a  burlesque  appearance  of  mul 
tiformity  in  arms,  accoutrements,  cloathing  and  conduct,  at  last 
grew  into  a  regular  army — an  army  which,  having  vindicated  the 
rights  of  human  nature,  and  established  the  independence  of  a  new 
empire,  merited  and  obtained  the  glorious  distinction  of  the  pa 
triot  army — the  patriot  army,  whose  praises  for  their  fortitude  in 
adversity,  bravery  in  battle,  moderation  in  conquest,  perseverance 
in  supporting  the  cruel  extremities  of  hunger  and  nakedness  with 
out  a  murmur  or  sigh,  as  well  as  for  their  magnanimity  in  retiring 

The  apprehension  of  an  attack  is  adduced  with  much  more  verisimili 
tude  in  M'Fingal,  as  the  reason  why  General  Gage  would  not  suffer  the 
"inhabitants  to  go  from  the  town  of  Boston,  after  he  had  promised  to  grant 
permission  .- 

'  So  Gage  of  late  agreed,  you  know, 

'  To  let  the  Boston  people  go : 

«  Yet  when  he  saw,  'gainst  troops  that  brav'd  him, 

'  They  were  the  only  guards  that  sav'd  him, 

'  Kept  off  that  Satan  of  a  Putnam, 

1  From  breaking  in  to  maul  and  ituitt'n  him, 

'  He'd  too  much  wit  such  leagues  t'  observe, 

'  And  shut  them  in  again  to  starve.'         M'FixoA.1..     Canto  I, 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  351 

to  civil  life,  at  the  moment  of  victory,  with  arms  in  their  hands, 
and  without  any  just  compensation  for  their  services,  will  only 
cease  to  be  celebrated  when  time  shall  exist  no  more. 

Enthusiasm  for  the  cause  of  liberty,  substituted  in  the  place  of 
discipline,  not  Only  kept  these  troops  together,  but  enabled  them 
at  once  to  perform  the  duties  of  a  disciplined  army.  Though  the 
commanding  officers  from  the  four  colonies  of  New-England  were 
in  a  manner  independent,  they  acted  harmoniously  in  concert. 
The  first  attention  had  been  prudently  directed  towards  forming 
some  little  redoubts  and  intrenchments ;  for  it  was  well  known  that 
lines,  however  slight  or  untenable,  were  calculated  to  inspire  raw 
soldiers  with  a  confidence  in  themselves.  The  next  care  was  to 
bring  the  live  stock  from  the  islands  in  Boston  bay,  in  order  to  pre 
vent  the  enemy  (already  surrounded  by  land),  from  making  use  of 
them  for  fresh  provisions.  In  the  latter  end  of  May,  between  two 
and  three  hundred  men  were  sent  to  drive  off  the  stock  from  Hog 
and  Noddle  islands,  which  are  situated  on  the  north-east  side  of 
Boston  harbour.  Advantage  having  been  taken  of  the  ebb-tide, 
when  the  water  is  fordable  between  the  main  and  Hog-island,  as  it 
is  between  that  and  Noddle-island,  the  design  was  effected.  But  a 
skirmish  ensued,  in  which  some  of  the  marines,  who  had  been  sta 
tioned  to  guard  them,  were  killed :  and  as  the  firing  continued 
between  the  British  water-craft  and  our  party,  a  reinforcement  of 
three  hundred  men,  with  two  pieces  of  artillery,  was  ordered  to 
join  the  latter.  General  Putnam  took  the  command,  and  having 
himself  gone  down  on  the  beach,  within  conversing  distance,  and 
ineffectually  ordered  the  people  on  board  an  armed  schooner  to 
strike,  he  plied  her  with  shot  so  furiously  that  the  crew  made  their 
escape,  and  the  vessel  was  burnt.  An  armed  sloop  was  likewise 
so  much  disabled  as  to  be  towed  off  by  the  boats  of  the  fleet.  Thus 
ended  this  affair,  in  which  several  hundred  sheep,  and  some  cattle 
were  removed  from  under  the  muzzles  of  the  enemy's  cannon,  and 
our  men,  accustomed  to  stand  fire,  by  being  for  many  hours  ex 
posed  to  it,  without  meeting  with  any  loss. 

The  Provincial  Generals  having  received  advice  that  the  Bri 
tish  Commander  in  Chief  designed  to  take  possession  of  the 
heights  on  the  peninsula  of  Charles-Town,  detached  a  thousand 
men  in  the  night  of  the  16th  of  June,  under  the  orders  of  General 
Warren,  to  intrench  themselves  upon  one  of  these  eminences, 
named  Bunker-Hill.  Though  retarded  by  accidents,  from  begin 
ning  the  work  until  nearly  midnight,  yet,  by  dawn  of  day,  they 
had  constructed  a  redoubt  about  eight  rods  square,  and  com 
menced  a  breast-work  from  the  left  to  the  low  grounds ;  which  an 
Insufferable  fire  from  the  shipping,  floating  batteries,  and  cannon 


292  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM, 

on  Cop's  Hill,  in  Boston,  prevented  them  from  completing.  At 
mid-day  four  battalions  of  foot,  ten  companies  of  grenadiers, 
ten  companies  of  light-infantry,  with  a  proportion  of  artillery, 
commanded  by  Major-General  Howe,  landed  under  a  heavy  can 
nonade  from  the  ships,  and  advanced  in  three  lines  to  the  attack. 
The  light-infantry  being  formed  on  the  right,  was  directed  to  turn 
the  left  flank  of  the  Americans;  and  the  grenadiers,  supported 
by  two  battalions,  to  storm  the  redoubt  in  front.  Meanwhile,  on 
application,  these  troops  were  augmented  by  the  47th  regiment, 
the  1st  battalion  of  marines,  together  with  some  companies  of 
light-infantry  and  grenadiers,  which  formed  an  aggregate  force 
of  between  two  and  three  thousand  men.  But  so  difficult  was  it 
to  reinforce  the  Americans,  by  sending  detachments  across  the 
Neck,  which  was  raked  by  the  cannon  of  the  shipping,  that  not 
more  than  fifteen  hundred  men  were  brought  into  action.  Few 
instances  can  be  produced  in  the  annals  of  mankind,  where  sol 
diers,  who  never  had  before  faced  an  enemy,  or  heard  the  whist 
ling  of  a  ball,  behaved  with  such  deliberate  and  persevering 
valour.  It  was  not  until  after  the  grenadiers  had  been  twice  re 
pulsed  to  their  boats,  General  Warren  slain,  his  troops  exhausted 
of  their  ammunition,  their  lines  in  a  manner  enfiladed  by  artillery, 
and  the  redoubt  half  filled  with  British  regulars,  that  the  word 
was  given  to  retire.  In  that  forlorn  condition,  the  spectacle  was 
astonishing  as  new,  to  behold  these  undisciplined  men,  most  of 
them  without  bayonets,  disputing  with  the  but-end  of  their  mus 
kets  against  the  British  bayonet,  and  receding  in  sullen  despair. 
Still  the  light-infantry  on  their  left  would  certainly  have  gained 
their  rear,  and  exterminated  this  gallant  corps,  had  not  a  body 
of  four  hundred  Connecticut  men,  with  the  Captains  Knowlton 
and  Chester,  after  forming  a  temporary  breast-work,  by  pulling 
up  one  post-and-rail  fence  and  putting  it  upon  another,  performed 
prodigies  of  bravery.  They  held  the  enemy  at  bay  until  the 
main  body  had  relinquished  the  heights,  and  then  retreated  across 
the  Neck  with  more  regularity,  and  less  loss,  than  could  have 
been  expected.  The  British,  who  effected  nothing  but  the  de 
struction  of  Charles-Town  by  a  wanton  conflagration,  had  more 
than  one  half  of  their  whole  number  killed  and  wounded:  the 
Americans  only  three  hundred  and  fifty-five  killed,  wounded,  and 
missing.  In  this  battle,  the  presence  and  example  of  General 
P^utnam,  who  arrived  with  the  reinforcement,  were  not  less  conspi 
cuous  than  useful.  He  did  every  thing  that  an  intrepid  and  expe 
rienced  officer  could  accomplish.  The  enemy  pursued  to  Winter- 
Hill—Putnam  made  a  stand,  and  drove  them  back  under  cover  of 
their  ships. 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  293 

The  premature  death  of  Warren,  one  of  the  most  illustrious 
patriots  that  ever  bled  in  the  cause  of  freedom ;  the  veteran  ap-; 
pearance  of  Putnam,  collected,  yet  ardent  in  action;  together 
•with  the  astonishing  scenery  and  interesting  groupe  around  Bun 
ker-Hill,  rendered  this  a  magnificent  subject  for  the  historic 
pencil.  /•  Accordingly  Trumbull,  formerly  an  Aid-de-Camp  to  Ge 
neral  Washington,  afterwards  Deputy-Adjutant-General  of  the 
northern-  army,  now  an  artist  of  great  celebrity  in  Europe,  hath 
finished  this  picture  with  that  boldness  of  conception,  and  those 
touches  of  art  which  demonstrate  the  master.  Heightened  in 
horror  by  the  flames  of  a  burning  town,  and  the*  smoke  of  con 
flicting  armies,  the  principal  scene,  taken  the  moment  when 
Warren  fell,  represents  that  hero  in  the  agonies  of  death,  a  gre 
nadier  on  the  point  of  bayoneting  him,  and  Colonel  Small,  to 
•whom  he  was  familiarly  known,  arresting  the  soldier's  arms;  at 
the  head  of  the  British  line,  Major  Pitcairne  is  seen  falling  dead 
into  the  arms  of  his  son ;  and  not  far  distant  General  Putnam  is 
placed  at  the  rear  of  our  retreating  troops,  in  the  light  blue  and 
scarlet  uniform  he  wore  that  day,  with  his  head  uncovered,  and 
his  sword  waving  towards  the  enemy,  as  it  were  to  stop  their 
impetuous  pursuit.  In  nearly  the  same  attitude  he  is  exhibited 
by  Barlow  in  that  excellent  poem,  the  Vision  of  Columbus. 

"  There  strides  bold  Putnam,  and  from  all  the  plains 
"  Calls  the  third  host,  the  tardy  rear  sustains, 
*{  And,  'mid  the  whizzing  deaths  that  fill  the  air, 
"  Waves  back  his  sword,  and  dares  the  folPwing  war."* 


*  The  writer  of  this  Essay  had  occasion  of  remarking  to  the  p^et  and 
the  painter,  while  they  were  three  thousand  miles  distant  from  each  other, 
at  which  distance  they  had  formed  and  executed  the  plans  of  their 
respective  productions,  the  similarity  observable  in  their  descriptions  of 
General  Putnam.  These  Chiefs  d'ceuvres  are  mentioned  not  with  a  vain 
presumption  of  adding  eclat  of  duration  to  works  which  have  received 
the  seal  of  immortality,  but  because  they  preserve,  in  the  sister  arts,  the 
same  illustrious  action  of  our  hero.  I  persuade  myself  I  need  not  apo 
logize  for  annexing  the  beautiful  lines  from  tke  poem  in  question,  on  the 
death  of  General  Warren. 

"  There,  hapless  Warren,  thy  cold  earth  was  seen : 
"  There  spring  thy  laurels  in  immortal  green ; 
"  Dearest  of  Chiefs  that  ever  press'd  the  plain, 
"  In  freedom's  cause,  with  early  honours,  slain, 


294  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

After  this  action,  the  British  strongly  fortified  themselves  on 
the  peninsulas  of  Boston  and  Charles-Town ;  while  the  Provincials 
remained  posted  in  the  circumjacent  country  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  form  a  blockade.  In  the  beginning  of  July,  General  Wash 
ington,  who  had  been  constituted  by  Congress,  Commander  in 
Chief  of  the  American  forces,  arrived  at  Cambridge,  to  take  the 
command.  Having  formed  the  army  into  three  grand  divisions, 
consisting  of  about  twelve  regiments  each,  he  appointed  Major- 
General  Ward  to  command  the  right  wing,  Major-General  Lee 
the  left  wing,  and  Major-General  Putnam  the  reserve.  General 
Putnam's  alertness  in  accelerating  the  construction  of  the  neces 
sary  defences  was  particularly  noticed  and  highly  approved  by 
the  Commander  in  Chief. 

About  the  20th  of  July,  the  declaration  of  Congress,  setting 
forth  the  reasons  of  their  taking  up  arms,  was  proclaimed  at  the 
head  of  the  several  divisions.  It  concluded  with  these  patriotic  and 
noble  sentiments :  "  In  our  own  native  land,  in  defence  of  the 
u  freedom  that  is  our  birth-right,  and  which  we  ever  enjoyed  until 
"  the  late  violation  of  it ;  for  the  protection  of  our  property,  ac- 
"  quired  solely  by  the  honest  industry  of  our  forefathers  and  our- 
"  selves;  against  violence  actually  offered,  we  have  taken  up 
a  arms.  We  shall  lay  them  down  when  hostilities  shall  cease  on 
"  the  part  of  the  aggressors,  and  all  danger  of  their  being  re- 
"  newed  shall  be  removed,  and  not  before. 

"  With  an  humble  confidence  in  the  mercies  of  the  supreme 
<l  and  impartial  Judge  and  Ruler  of  the  universe,  we  most  de- 
"  voutly  implore  his  divine  goodness  to  conduct  us  happily  through 
"  this  great  conflict,  to  dispose  our  adversaries  to  reconciliation 
"  on  reasonable  terms,  and,  thereby,  to  relieve  the  empire  from 
"  the  calamities  of  civil  war." 

As  soon  as  these  memorable  words  were  pronounced  to  General 
Putnam's  division,  which  he  had  ordered  to  be  paraded  on  Pros 
pect-Hill,  they  shouted  in  three  huzzas  aloud,  Amen  !  whereat  (a 
cannon  from  the  fort  being  fired  as  a  signal)  the  new  Standard) 
lately  sent  from  Connecticut,  was  suddenly  seen  to  rise  and  unrol 
itself  to  the  wind.  On  one  side  was  inscribed,  in  large  letters  of 
gold,  "Aw  APPEAL  TO  HEAVEN,"  and  on  the  other  were  deli 
neated  the  armorial  bearings  of  Connecticut,  which,  without  sup 
porters  or  crest,  consist,  unostentatiously,  of  three  Vines;  with 

"  Still  dear  in  death,  as  when  in  fight  you  mov'd, 
"  By  hosts  applauded  and  by  heav'n  approv'd; 
"  The  faithful  muse  shall  tell  the  world  thy  fame, 
"  And  unborn  realms  resound  th*  immortal  name." 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  29S 

this  motto,  "  Qui  transtulit,  sustinet  ;"*  alluding  to  the  pious  con 
fidence  our  forefathers  placed  in  the  protection  of  Heaven,  on 
those  three  allegorical  scions — KNOWLEDGE — LIBERTY — RELI 
GION — which  they  had  been  instrumental  in  transplanting  to  Ame 
rica. 

The  strength  of  position  on  the  enemy's  part,  and  want  of  am 
munition  on  our's,  prevented  operations  of  magnitude  from  being 
attempted.  Such  diligence  was  ifced  in  fortifying  our  camps,  and 
such  precaution  adopted  to  prevent  surprise,  as  to  ensure  tran 
quillity  to  the  troops  during  the  winter.  In  the  spring,  a  position 
was  taken  so  menacing  to  the  enemy,  as  to  cause  them,  on  the  17th 
of  March,  1776,  to  abandon  Boston,  not  without  considerable  pre 
cipitation  and  dereliction  of  royal  stores. 

As  a  part  of  the  hostile  fleet  lingered  for  some  time  in  Nantas- 
ket-Road,  about  nine  miles  below  Boston,  General  Washington 
continued  himself  in  Boston,  not  only  to  see  the  coast  entirely 
clear,  but  also  to  make  many  indispensible  arrangements.  His 
Excellency,  proposing  to  leave  Major-General  Ward,  with  a  few 
regiments,  to  finish  the  fortifications  intended  as  a  security  against 
an  attack  by  water,  in  the  mean  time  dispatched  the  greater  part 
of  the  army  to  New-York,  where  it  was  most  probable  the  enemy- 
would  make  a  descent.  Upon  the  sailing  of  a  fleet  with  troops  in 
the  month  of  January,  Major-General  Lee  had  been  sent  to  the  de 
fence  of  that  city ;  who,  after  having  caused  some  works  to  be 
laid  out,  proceeded  to  follow  that  fleet  to  South-Carolina.  The 
Commander  in  Chief  was  now  exceedingly  solicitous  that  these 
works  should  be  completed  as  soon  as  possible,  and  accordingly 
gave  the  following 

*'  Orders  and  Instructions  for  Major-General  Putnam. 

"  As  there  are  the  best  reasons  to  believe  that  the  enemy's  fleet 
"  and  army,  which  left  Nantasket-Road  last  Wednesday  evening, 
"  are  bound  to  New-York,  to  endeavour  to  possess  that  important 
"  post,  and,  if  possible,  to  secure  the  communication  by  Hudson's 
"  river  to  Canada,  it  must  be  our  care  to  prevent  them  from  ac- 
"  complishing  their  designs.  To  that  end  I  have  detached  Bri- 
"  gadier-General  Heath,  with  the  whole  body  of  riflemen,  and  five 
"  battalions  of  the  Continental  army,  by  the  way  of  Norwich,  in 
"  Connecticut,  to  New- York.  These,  by  an  express  arrived  yes- 
"  terday  from  General  Heath,  I  have  reason  to  believe,  are  in 
u  New-York.  Six  more  battalions,  under  General  Sullivan,  march 

*  Literally,  "  He  who  transplanted  them  will  support  them," 


29d  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM* 

"  this  morning  by  the  same  route,  and  will,  I  hope,  arrive  ther« 
"  in  eight  or  ten  days  at  farthest.  The  rest  of  the  army  will  im- 
"  mediately  follow  in  divisions,  leaving  only  a  convenient  space  be- 
"  tween  each  division,  to  prevent  confusion,  and  want  of  accom- 
"  modation  upon  their  march*  You  will,  no  doubt,  make  the  best 
"  dispatch  in  getting  to  New-York.  Upon  your  arrival  there,  you 
**  will  assume  the  command,  and  immediately  proceed  in  con* 
**  tinuing  to  execute  the/ilan  proposed  by  Major-General  Lee,  foi* 
"  fortifying  that  city,  and  securing  the  passes  of  the  East  and 
"  North  rivers.  If,  upon  consultation  with  the  Brigadiers  Gene- 
"  ral  and  Engineers,  any  alteration  in  that  plan  is  thought  neces-* 
"  sary,  you  are  at  liberty  to  make  it :  cautiously  avoiding  to  break 
"  in  too  much  upon  his  main  design,  unless  where  it  may  be  ap- 
"  parently  necessary  so  to  do,  and  that  by  the  general  voice  and 
"  opinion  of  the  gentlemen  above-mentioned. 

"  You  will  meet  the  Quarter-Master-General,  Colonel  Mifflin, 
"  and  Commissary-General,*  at  New- York.  As  these  are  both 
"  men  of  excellent  talents  in  their  different  departments,  you  will 
11  do  well  to  give  them  all  the  authority  and  assistance  they  re* 
**  quire :  And  should  a  council  of  war  be  necessary,  it  is  my  direc-* 
"  tion  they  assist  at  it. 

"  Your  long-  service  and  experience  will,  better  than  my  parti* 
"  cular  directions  at  this  distance,  point  out  to  you  the  works  most 
"  proper  to  be  first  raised;  and  your  perseverance,  activity,  and 
"  zeal  will  lead  you,  without  my  recommending  it,  to  exert  every 
"  nerve  to  disappoint  the  enemy's  designs. 

"  Devoutly  praying  that  the  POWER  which  has  hitherto  sustained 
"  the  American  arms,  may  continue  to  bless  them  with  the  divine 
"  protection,  I  bid  you — FAREWELL. 

"  Given  at  Head-Quarters,  in  Cambridge,  this  twenty-ninth  of 
"  March,  1776. 

«  G.  WASHINGTON." 

Invested  with  these  commands,  General  Putnam  travelled  by 
long  and  expeditious  stages  to  New- York.  His  first  precaution, 
upon  his  arrival,  was  to  prevent  disturbance,  or  surprise  in  the 
night  season.  With  these  objects  in  view,  after  posting  the  ne 
cessary  guards,  he  issued  his  orders.f  He  instituted,  likewise, 

*  Colonel  Joseph  Trumbull,  eldest  son  to  the  Governor  of  that  name, 
f  GENERAL  ORDERS. 

"  Head-quarters,  New-York,  April  5,  1776. 

"  The  soldiers  are  strictly  enjoined  to  retire  to  their  barracks  and  quar- 
"  ters  at  tattoo-beating,  and  to  remain  there  until  the  reveille  is  beat. 
"  Necessity  obliges  the  General  to  desire  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  to 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  2§X 

pfcher  wholesome  regulations  to  meliorate  the  police  of  the  troops, 
and  to  preserve  the  good  agreement  that  subsisted  between  them 
and  the  citizens. 

Notwithstanding  the  war  had  now  raged,  in  other  parts,  with 
unaccustomed  severity  for  nearly  a  year,  yet  the  British  ships  at 
New- York,  one  of  which  had  once  fired  upon  the  town  to  intimi 
date  the  inhabitants,  found  the  means  of  being  supplied  v/ith  fresh 
water  and  provisions.  General  Putnam  resolved  to  adopt  effectual 
measures  for  putting  a  period  to  this  intercourse,  and  accordingly 
expressed  his  prohibition  *  in  the  most  pointed  terms. 

Nearly  at  the  same  moment,  a  detachment  of  a  thousand  Con 
tinentals  was  sent  to  occupy  Governor's  Island,  a  regiment  to  for- 
Cify  Red  Hook,  and  some  companies  of  riflemen  to  the  Jersey  shore. 
Of  two  boats,  belonging  to  two  armed  vessels,  which  attempted 
to  take  on  board  fresh  water  from  the  watering-place  on  Staten- 
Island*,  one  was  driven  off  by  the  riflemen,  with  two  or  three 
seamen  killed  in  it,  and  the  other  captured  with  thirteen.  A 
few  days  afterwards,  Captain  Vandeput,  of  the  Asia  man  of 
war,  the  senior  officer  of  the  ships  on  this  station,  finding  the  in 
tercourse  with  the  shore  interdicted,  their  limits  contracted,  and 
that  no  good  purposes  could  be  answered  by  remaining  there, 
sailed,  with  all  the  armed  vessels,  out  of  the  harbour.  These  ar 
rangements  and  transactions,  joined  to  an  unremitting  attention  to 
the  completion  of  the  defences,  gave  full  scape  to  the  activity  of 

"  observe  the  same  rule,  as  no  person  will  be  permitted  to  pass  any  sen- 
«'  tery  after  this  night,  without  the  countersign. 

"  The  inhabitants,  whose  business  require  it,  may  kuow  ths  counter 
's:'  sign,  by  applying  to  any  of  the  Brigade-Majors." 

*  PROHIBITION. 

Head-quarters,  New-Tv*,  April  8,  1775. 

"  The  General  informs  the  inhabitants,  that  it  is  become  absolutely  ne- 
"  cessary,  that  all  communication  between  the  ministerial  fleet  and  the 
"  shore  should  be  immediately  stopped;  for  that  purpose  he  has  given 
"  positive  orders,  the  ships  should  no  longer  be  furnished  with  provisions. 
"  Any  inhabitants,  or  others,  who  shall  be  taken  that  have  been  on  board, 
"  after  the  publishing  this  order,  or  near  any  of  the  ships,  or  going  on 
V  board,  will  be  considered  as  enemies,  and  treated  accordingly. 

"  All  boats  are  to  saii  from  Beekinan-slip.  Captain  James  Alner  is  ap- 
?'  pointed  inspector,  and  will  give  permits  to  oystermen.  It  is  ordered  and 
V  expected  that  none  attempt  going  without  a  pass. 

"  ISRAEL  PUTNAM, 

."  Major-General  in  the  Continental  Ajmy,  and  Commander  in  Chief 
"  of  the  Forces  in  New-York." 
2Q 


298  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

General  Putnam,  until  the  arrival  of  General  Washington,  which 
happened  about  the  middle  of  April. 

The  Commander  in  Chief,  in  his  first  public  orders,  "  compli 
mented  the  officers  who  had  successively  commanded  at  New-York, 
"  and  returned  his  thanks  to  them  as  well  as  to  the  officers  and  sol- 
"  diers  under  their  command,  for  the  many  works  of  defence  which 
"  had  been  so  expeditiously  erected  :  at  the  same  time  he  expressed 
11  an  expectation  that  the  same  spirit  of  zeal  for  the  service  would 
"  continue  to  animate  their  future  conduct,"  Putnam,  who  was 
then  the  only  Major-General  with  the  main  army,  had  still  a  chief 
agency  in  forwarding  the  fortifications,  and,  with  the  assistance  of 
the  Brigadiers  Spencer  and  Lord  Sth-ling,  in  assigning  to  the  dif 
ferent  corps  their  alarm  posts . 

Congress  having  intimated  a  desire  of  consulting  with  the  Com 
mander  in  Chief,  on  the  critical  posture  of  affairs,  his  Excellency 
repaired  to  Philadelphia  accordingly,  and  was  absent  from  the 
twenty-first  of  May  until  the  sixth  of  June.  General  Putnam, 
who  commanded  in  that  interval,  had  it  in  charge  to  open  all 
letters  directed  to  General  Washington,  on  public  service^  and, 
if  important,  after  regulating  his  conduct  by  their  contents,  to 
forward  them  by  express;  to  expedite  the  works  then  erecting ; 
to  begin  others  which  were  specified ;  to  establish  signals  for  com 
municating  an  alarm;  to  guard  against  the  possibility  of  surprise; 
to  secure  well  the  powder-magazine ;  to  augment,  by  every  means 
in  his  power,  the  quantity  of  cartridges ;  and  to  send  Brigadier- 
General  Lord  Stirling  to  put  the  posts  in  the  Highlands  into  a 
proper  condition  of  defence.  He  had  also  a  private  and  confi 
dential  instruction,  to  afford' whatever  aid  might  be  required  by 
the  Provincial  Congress  of  New- York,  for  apprehending  certain 
of  their  disaffected  citizens:  and  as  it  would  be  most  convenient 
to  take  the  detachment  for  this  service  from  the  troops  on  Long- 
Island,  under  the  command  of  Brigadiers-General  Greene,  it  was; 
recommended  that  this  officer  should  be  advised  of  the  plan,  and 
that  the  execution  should  be  conducted  with  secrecy  and  celerity, 
as  well  as  with  decency  and  good  order.  In  the  records  of  the 
army  are  preserved  the  daily  orders  which  were  issued  in  the 
absence  of  the  Commander  in  Chief,  who,  on  his  return,  was  not 
only  satisfied  that  the  works  had  been  prosecuted  with  all  possible- 
dispatch,  but  also  that  the  other  duties  had  been  properly  dis 
charged. 

It  was  the  latter  end  of  June,  when  the  British  fleet,  which 
had  been  at  Halifax  waiting  for  reinforcements  from  Europe, 
began  to  arrive  at  New-York.  To  obstruct  its  passage,  some 
marine  preparations  had  been  made.  General  Putnam,  to  whom* 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  29f 

fhe  direction  of  the  whale-boats,  fire-rafts,  flat-bottomed  boats, 
and  armed  vessels,  was  committed,  afforded  his  patronage  to  a 
project  for  destroying  the  enemy's  shipping  by  explosion.  A  ma- 
chine,  altogether  different  from  any  thing  hitherto  devised  by  the 
art  of  man,  had  been  invented  by  Mr.  David  Bushnell,*  for  sub- 

*  David  Bushnell,  A.  M.  of  Saybrook,  in  Connecticut,  invented  seve 
ral  other  machines  for  the  annoyance  of  shipping ;  these,  from  accidents, 
not  militating  against  the  philosophical  principles  on  which  their  success 
depended,  only  partially  succeeded.  He  destroyed  a  vessel  in  the  charge 
of  Commodore  Symmonds,  whose  report  to  the  Admiral  was  published. 
One  of  his  kegs  also  demolished  a  vessel  near  the  Long-Island  shore. 
About  Christmas,  1777,  he  committed  to  the  Delaware  a  number  of  kegs, 
destined  to  fall  among  the  British  fleet  at  Philadelphia;  but  his  squadron 
of  kegs,  having  been  separated  and  retarded  by  the  ice,  demolished  but  a 
single  boat.  This  catastrophe,  however,  produced  an  alarm,  unprecedented 
in  its  nature  and  degree ;  which  has  been  so  happily  described  in  the  sub 
sequent  song,  by  the  Hon.  Francis  Hopkinson,  that  the  event  it  celebrates 
will  not  be  forgotten,  so  long  as  mankind  shall  continue  to  be  delighted 
with  works  of  humour  and  taste. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  KEGS:— A  Song. 

Tune,  Moggy  Lawder. 
Gallants,  attend,  and  hear  a  friend 

Thrill  forth  harmonious  ditty : 
Strange  things  I'll  tell,  which  late  befd 

In  Philadelphia  city. 

*Twas  early  day,  as  poets  say, 

Just  when  the  sun  was  rising, 
A  soldier  stood  on  log  of  wood, 

And  saw  a  sight  surprising. 

As  in  a  maze  he  stood  to  gaze, 

The  truth  can't  be  denied,  Sir, 
He  spied  a  score  of  kegs  or  more,  , 

Come  floating  down  the  tide,  Sir. 

A  sailor,  too,  in  jerkin  blue, 

The  strange  appearance  viewing, 
First  damn'd  his  eyes,  in  great  surprise, 

Then  said — "  Some  mischief's  brewing. 

"  These  Kegs  now  hold  the  rebels  bold, 

"  Pack'd  up  like  pickled  herring ; 
"  And  they're  come  down,  t'  attack  the  town 

"  In  this  new  way  of  ferry'ng." 


300  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

marine  navigation,  which  was  found  to  answer  the  purpose  per-* 
fectly,  of  rowing  horizontally  at  any  given  depth  under  water,1 
and  of  rising  or  sinking  at  pleasure.  To  this  machine,  called 


The  soldier  flew ;  the  sailor  too  | 
And,  scar'd  almost  to  death,  Sir, 

Wore  out  their  shoes,  to  spread  the  news, 
And  ran  till  out  of  breath,  Sir. 

Now  up  and  down,  throughout  the  town, 

Most  frantic  scenes  were  acted ; 
And  some  ran  here,  and  some  ran  there, 

Like  men  almost  distracted. 

Some  fire  cried,  whicli  some  denied, 

But  said  the  earth  had  quaked : 
And  girls  and  boys,  with  hideous  noise, 

Ran  through  the  town  half  naked. 

Sir  William*  he,  snug  as  a  flea, 

Lay  all  this  time  a  snoring ; 
Nor  dreamt  of  harm,  as  he  lay  warm 

In  bed  with  Mrs.  L*r*ng. 

Now  in  a  fright,  he  starts  upright, 

Awak'd  by  such  a  clatter : 
He  rubs  both  eyes,  and  boldly  cries, 

"  For  God's  sake,  what's  the  matter  ?" 

At  his  bed-side  he  then  espied 

Sir  Erskinef  at  command,  Sir ; 
Upon  one  foot  he  had  one  boot, 

And  t'  other  in  his  hand,  Sir. 

"Arise!  arise!"  Sir  Erskine  cries ; 

"  The  rebels — more's  the  pity — 
lk  Without  a  boat,  are  all  on  float, 

"  And  rang'd  before  the  city.  • 

"  The  motley  crew,  in  vessels  new, 
"  With  Satan  for  their  guide,  Sir, 

"  Pack'd  up  in  bags,  or  wooden  kegs, 
"  Come  driving  down  the  tide,  Sir : 

*  Sir  William  Howe.  t  3'ir  William  Erskin*. 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  301 

the  American  Tin-tie,  was  attached  a  magazine  of  powder,  which 
it  was  intended  to  be  fastened  under  the  bottom  of  a  ship,  with 
a  driving  screw,  in  such  sort,  that  the  same  stroke  which  dis- 

"  Therefore  prepare  for  bloody  war } 

"  These  kegs  must  all  be  touted, 
"  Or  surely  we  despis'd  shall  be, 

"  And  British  courage  doubted." 

The  Royal  band  now  ready  stand, 

All  rang'd  in  dread  array,  Sir, 
With  stomach's  stout,  to  see  it  out, 

And  make  a  bloody  day,  Sir. 

The  cannons  roar  from  shore  to  shore, 

The  small  arms  make  a  rattle : 
Since  wars  began,  I'm  sure  no  man 

E'er  saw  so  strange  a  battle. 

The  rebel*  vales,  the  rebel  dales, 

With  rebel  trees  surrounded, 
The  distant  woods,  the  hills  and  floods, 

With  rebel  echoes  sounded. 

The  fish  below  swam  to  and  fro, 

Attack 'd  from  ev'ry  quarter; 
"  Why  sure,"  thought  they,  "  the  Devil's  to  pay 

"  'Mong'st  folks  above  the  water." 

The  kegs,  'tis  said,  though  strongly  made 

Of  rebel  staved  and  hoops,  Sir, 
Could  not  oppose  their  pow'rful  foes, 

The  conqu'ring  British  troops,  Sir. 

From  morn  to  night  those  men  of  might 

Display'd  amazing  courage  ; 
And  when  the  sun  was  fairly  down, 

Retir'd  to  sup  their  porridge. 

An  hundred  men,  with  each  a  pen, 

Or  more,  upon  my  word,  Sir, 
It  is  most  true,  would  be  too  few 

Their  valour  to  record,  Sir. 

*  The  British  officers  were  so  fond  of  the  word  rtbfl,  that  they  often  applied  it  most  tf> 
surdJy. 


302  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

engaged  it  from  the  machine,  should  put  the  internal  clock-work 
in  motion.  This  being  done,  the  ordinary  operation  of  a  gun-lock) 
at  the  distance  of  half  an  hour,  an  hour,  or  any  determinate 
time,  would  cause  the  powder  to  explode,  and  leave  the  effects  to 
the  common  laws  of  nature.  The  simplicity,  yet  combination 
discovered  in  the  mechanism  of  this  wonderful  machine,  were 
acknowledged  by  those  skilled  in  physics,  and  particularly  hy 
draulics,  to  be  not  less  ingenious  than  novel.  The  inventor, 
whose  constitution  was  too  feeble  to  permit  him  to  perform  the 
labour  of  rowing  the  Turtle,  had  taught  his  brother  to  manage  it 
•with  perfect  dexterity ;  but  unfortunately  his  brother  fell  sick  of 
a  fever  just  before  the  arrival  of  the  fleet.  Recourse  was  there 
fore  had  to  a  sergeant  in  the  Connecticut  troops ;  who,  having  re 
ceived  whatever  instructions  could  be  communicated  to  him  in  a 
short  time,  went,  too  late  in  the  night,  with  all  the  apparatus, 
under  the  bottom  of  the  Eagle,  a  sixty-four  gun  ship,  on  board  of 
•which  the  British  Admiral,  Lord  Howe,  commanded.  In  coming 
np,  the  screw  that  had  been  calculated  to  perforate  the  copper 
sheathing,  unluckily  struck  against  some  iron  plates  where  the 
rudder  is  connected  with  the  stern.  This  accident,  added  to  the 
strength  of  the  tide  which  prevailed,  and  the  want  of  adequate 
skill  in  the  sergeant,  occasioned  such  delay,  that  the  dawn  began 
to  appear,  whereupon  he  abandoned  the  magazine  to  chance,  and 
after  gaining  a  proper  distance,  for  the  sake  of  expedition,  rowed 
on  the  surface  towards  the  town.  General  Putnam,  who  had 
been  on  the  wharf  anxiously  expecting  the  result,  from  the  first 
glimmering  of  light,  beheld  the  machine  near  Governor's-Island, 
and  sent  a  whale-boat  to  bring  it  on  shore.  In  about  twenty  mi 
nutes  afterwards  the  magazine  exploded,  and  blew  a  vast  column 
of  water  to  an  amazing  height  in  the  air.  As  the  whole  business 
had  been  kept  an  inviolable  secret,  l\e  v,*as  not  a  little  diverted 
•with  the  various  conjectures,  whether  this  stupendous  noise  was 
produced  by  a  bomb,  a  meteor,  a  water-spout,  or  an  earthquake. 

Such  feats  did  they  perform  that  clay, 

Upon  those  wicked  kegs,  Sir, 
That  years  to  come,  if  they  get  home, 

They'll  make  their  boasts  and  brags,  Sir. 

Mr.  Bushnell,  having  been  highly  recommended  for  his  talents  by  Pre 
sident  Stiles,  General  Parsons,  and  some  other  gentlemen  of  science, 
was  appointed  a  Captain  in  the  corps  of  sappers  and  miners ;  in  which 
capacity  he  continued  to  serve  with  that  corps  until  the  conclusion  cf  the 
war. 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  303 

Other  operations  of  a  most  serious  nature  rapidly  succeeded,  and 
prevented  a  repetition  of  the  experiment. 

On  the  twenty-second  day  of  August,  the  van  of  the  British, 
landed  on  Long-Island,  and  was  soon  followed  by  the  whole  army, 
except  one  brigade  of  Hessians,  a  small  body  of  British,  and 
some  convalescents,  left  on  Staten-Island.  Our  troops  on  Long- 
Island  had  been  commanded  during  the  summer  by  General 
Greene,  who  was  now  sick;  and  General  Putnam  took  the  com 
mand  but  two  days  before  the  battle  of  Flatbush.  The  instruc 
tions  to  him,  pointing  in  the  first  place  to  decisive  expedients  for 
suppressing  the  scattering,  unmeaning,  and  wasteful  fire  of  our 
men,  contained  regulations  for  the  service  of  the  guards, "the  Bri 
gadiers  and  the  Field-officers  of  the  day;  for  the  appointment 
and  encouragement  of  proper  scouts,  as  well  as  for  keeping  the 
men  constantly  at  their  posts ;  for  preventing  the  burning  of  build 
ings,  except  it  should  be  necessary  for  military  purposes,  and  for 
preserving  private  property  from  pillage  and  destruction.  To 
these  regulations  were  added,  in  a  more  diffuse,  though  not  less 
spirited  and  professional  stile,  reflections  on  the  distinction  of  an 
army  from  a  mob;  with  exhortations  for  the  soldiers  to  conduct 
themselves  manfully  in  such  a  cause,  and  for  their  Commander 
to  oppose  the  enemy's-  approach  with  detachments  of  his  best 
troops ;  while  lie  should  endeavour  to  render  their  advance  more 
difficult  by  constructing  abbatis,  and  to  entrap  their  parties  by 
forming  ambuscades.  General  Putnam  was  within  the  lines, 
when  an  engagement  took  place  on  the  27th,  between  the  British 
army  and  our  advanced  corps,  in  which  we  lost  about  a  thousand 
men  in  killed  and  missing,  with  the  General  Sullivan  and  Lord 
Stirling  made  prisoners.  But  our  men,  though  attacked  on  all 
sides,  fought  with  great  bravery ;  and  the  enemy's  loss  was  not 
light. 

The  unfortunate  battle  of  Long-Island,  the  masterly  retreat  from 
thence,  and  the  actual  passage  of  part  of  the  hostile  fleet  in  the 
East-River,  above  the  town,  precluded  the  evacuation  of  New- 
York.  A  promotion  of  four  Major-Generals,  and  six  Brigadiers, 
had  previously  been  made  by  Congress.  After  the  retreat  from 
Long-Island,  the  main  army,  consisting,  for  the  moment,  of  sixty 
battalions,  of  which  twenty  were  Continental,  the  residue  levies 
and  militia,  was,  conformably  to  the  exigencies  of  the  service,  ra 
ther  than  to  the  rules  of  war,  formed  into  fourteen  brigades.  Ma 
jor-General  Putnam  commanded  the  right  grand  division  of  five 
brigades,  the  Majors-General  Spencer  and  Greene  the  centre  of 
six  brigades,  and  Major-General  Heath  the  left,  which  was  posted 
near  Kings-bridge,  aud  composed  of  t\vo  brigades.  The  whole 


304  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

never  amounted  to  twenty  thousand  effective  men ;  while  the  Bri 
tish  and  German  forces,  under  Sir  William  Howe,  exceeded 
twenty-two  thousand  :  indeed,  the  minister  had  asserted  in  parlia 
ment,  that  they  would  consist  of  more  than  thirty  thousand.  Our 
two  centre  divisions,  both  commanded  by  General  Spencer,  in  the 
sickness  of  General  Greene,  moved  towards  Mount  Washington, 
Harlaem  Heights,  and  Horn's  Hook,  as  soon  as  the  final  resolution 
was  taken  in  a  council  of  war,  on  the  twelfth  of  September,  to 
abandon  the  city.  That  event,  thus  circumstanced,  took  effect  a 
few  days  after. 

On  Sunday,  the  fifteenth,  the  British,  after  sending  three  ships 
of  war  up  the  North-River,  to  Bloomingdale,  and  keeping  up,  for 
some  hours,  a  severe  cannonade  on  our  lines,  from  those  already 
in  the  East-River,  landed  in  force,  at  Turtle  Bay.  Our  new  levies, 
commanded  by  a  State  Brigadier-General,  fled  without  making  re 
sistance.  Two  brigades  of  General  Putnam's  division,  ordered  to 
fheir  support,  notwithstanding  the  exertion  of  their  Brigadiers, 
and  of  the  Commander  in  Chief  himself,  who  came  up  at  the  in 
stant,  conducted  themselves  in  the  same  shameful  manner.  His 
Excellency  then  ordered  the  Heights  of  Harlaem,  a  strong  posi 
tion,  to  be  occupied.  Thither  the  forces  in  the  vicinity,  as  well  as 
the  fugitives,  repaired.  In  the  mean  time  General  Putnam,  with, 
the  remainder  of  his  command,  and  the  ordinary  out-posts,  was  in 
the  city.  After  having  caused  the  brigades  to  begin  their  retreat 
by  the  route  of  Bloomingdale,  in  order  to  avoid  the  enemy,  who 
•were  then  in  the  possession  of  the  main  road  leading  to  Kings- 
bridge,  he  gallopped  to  call  off  the  pickets  and  guards.  Having 
myself  been  a  volunteer  in  his  division,  and  acting  Adjutant  to  the 
last  regiment  tha£  left  the  city,  I  had  frequent  opportunities,  thati 
day,  of  beholding  him,  for  the  purpose  of  issuing  orders,  and  en 
couraging  the  troops,  flying,  on  his  horse  covered  with  foam, 
wherever  his  presence  was  most  necessary.  Without  his  extra 
ordinary  exertions,  the  guards  must  have  been  inevitably  lost, 
and  it  is  probable  the  entire  corps  would  have  been  cut  in  pieces. 
When  we  were  not  far  from  Bloomingdale,  an  Aid-de^camp  came 
from  him  at  full  speed,  to  inform  that  a  column  of  British  infantry 
was  descending  upon  our  right.  Our  rear  was  soon  fired  upon, 
and  the  Colonel  of  our  regiment,  whose  order  was  just  communi 
cated  for  the  front  to  file  off  to  the  left,  was  killed  on  the  sport. 
With  no  other  loss  we  joined  the  army,  after  dark,  on  the  Heights 
of  Harlaem. 

Before  our  brigades  came  in,  we  were  given  up  for  lost  by  all 
our  friends.  So  critical  indeed  was  our  situation,  and  so  narrow 
the  gap  by  which  we  escaped,  that  the  instant  we  had  passed  the 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  50* 

enemy  closed  it  by  extending  their  line  from  river  to  river.  Our 
men,  who  had  been  fifteen  hours  under  arms,  harassed  by  march 
ing  and  countermarching,  in  consequence  of  incessant  alarms,  ex 
hausted  as  they  were  by  heat  and  thirst,  (for  the  day  proved  in* 
supportably  ho",  and  few  or  none  had  canteens,  insomuch,  that 
some  died  at  the  brooks  where  they  drank)  if  attacked,  could  have 
made  but  feeble  resistance. 

If  we  take  into  consideration  the  debilitating  sickness  which 
weakened  almost  all  our  troops,  the  hard  duty  by  which  they  were 
worn  down  in  constructing  numberless  defences,   the  continual 
want  of  rest  they  had  suffered  since  the  enemy  landed,  in  guard 
ing  from  nocturnal  surprise,  the  despondency  infused  into  their 
minds  by  an  insular  situation,  and  a  consciousness  of  inferiority  to 
the  enemy  in  discipline,  together  with  the  disadvantageous  term 
upon  which,  in  their  state  of  separation,  they  might  have  been 
forced  to   engage ;    it  appears  highly  probable  that  day  would 
have  presented  an  easy  victory  to  the  British.     On  the  other 
side,  the  American  Commander  in  Chief  had  wisely   counte 
nanced  an  opinion,  then  universally  credited,  that  our  army  was 
three  times  more  numerous  than  it  was  in  reality.    It  is-not  a  sub 
ject  for  astonishment,  that  the  British,  ignorant  of  the  existing 
circumstances,  imposed  upon  as  to  the  numbers  by  reports,  and 
recollecting  what  a  few  brave  men,  slightly  entrenched,  had  per 
formed  at  Bunker-Hill,  should  proceed  with  great  circumspection. 
For  their  reproaches,  that  the  rebels,  as  they  affected  to  style  us, 
loved  digging  better  than  fighting,  and  that  they  earthed  them» 
•elves  in  holes  like  foxes,  but  ill  concealed  at  the  bottom  of  their 
own  hearts  the  profound  impression  that  action  had  made.  Cheap 
and  contemptible  as  we  had  once  seemed  in  their  eyes,  it  had 
taught  them  to  hold  us  in  some  respect.     This  respect,  in  conjunc 
tion  with  a  fixed  belief,  that  the  enthusiastic  spirit  of  our  opposition 
must  soon  subside,  and  that  the  inexhaustible  resources  of  Britain 
would  ultimately  triumph,  without  leaving  anything  to  chance  (not 
the  avarice  or  treachery  of  the  British  General,  as  the  factious  of 
his  own  nation  wished  to  insinuate),  retarded  their  operation,  and 
afforded  us  leisure  to   rescue  from  annihilation  the  miserable  re 
lics  of  an  army,  hastening  to  dissolution  by  the  expiration  of  en 
listments,  and  the  country  itself  from  irretrievable  subjugation. 

IN  TRUTH,  WE  ARE  NOT  LESS  INDEBTED  TO  THE  MATTOCK 
AT  ONE  PERIOD,  THAN  TO  THE  MUSKET  AT  ANOTHER,  FOR 

OUR  POLITICAL  SALVATION.  It  required  great  talents  to  deter 
mine  when  one  or  the  other  was  most  profitably  to  be  employed. 
I  am  aware  how  fashionable  it  has  become  to  compare  the  Ame 
rican  Commander  in  Chief,  for  the  prudence  displayed  in  those 

2R 


308  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

dilatory  and  defensive  operations,  so  happily  prosecuted  in  the 
early  stages  of  the  war,  to  the  illustrious  Roman,  who  acquired 
immortality  hi  restoring  the  Commonwealth  5y  delay.  Advanta 
geous  and  flattering  as  the  comparison  at  first  appears,  it  will  be 
found,  on  examination,  to  stint  the  American  Fabius  to  the  smaller 
moiety  of  his  merited  fame.  Did  HE  not,  in  scenes  of  almost  un 
paralleled  activity,  discover  specimens  of  transcendent  abilities; 
and  might  it  not  be  proved,  to  professional  men,  that  boldness  in 
council,  and  rapidity  in  execution,  were,  at  least,  equally  with 
prudent  procrastination,  and  the  quality  of  not  being  compelled 
to  action,  attributes  of  his  military  genius  ?  This,  however,  was  an 
occasion,  as  apparent  as  pressing,  for  attaining  his  object  by  de 
lay.  From  that  he  had  every  thing  to  gain,  nothing  to  lose.  Yet 
there  were  not  wanting  politicians,  AT  THIS  VERY  TIME,  who 
querulously  blamed  these  Fabian  measures,  and  loudly  clamoured 
that  the  immense  labour  and  expense  bestowed  on  the  fortification 
of  New-York,  had  been  thrown  away  ;  that  if  we  could  not  face 
the  enemy  there  after  so  many  preparations,  we  might  as  well  re 
linquish  the  contest  at  once,  for  we  could  no  where-  make  a  stand  j 
and  that  if  General  Washington,  with  an  army  of  sixty  thousand 
men,  strongly  entrenched,  declined  fighting  with  Sir  William 
Howe,  who  had  little  more  than  one  third  of  that  number,  it  was 
not  to  be  expected  he  would  find  any  other  occasion  that  might  in 
duce  him  to  engage.  But  General  Washington,  content  to  suffer 
a  temporary  sacrifice  of  personal  reputation,  for  the  sake  of  secur 
ing  a  permanent  advantage  to  his  country,  and  regardless  of  those 
idle  clamours  for  which  he  had  furnished  materials,  by  making 
his  countrymen,  in  order  the  more  effectually  to  make  his  enemy 
believe  his  force  much  greater  than  it  actually  was,  inflexibly  pur 
sued  his  system,  and  gloriously  demonstrated  how  poor  and  pitiful, 
in  the  estimation  of  A  GREAT  MIND,  are  the  censorious  strictures 
of  those  novices  in  war  and  politics,  who,  with  equal  rashness  and 
impudence,  presume  to  decide  dogmatically  on  the  merit  of  plans, 
they  could  neither  originate  or  comprehend  ! 

That  night  our  soldiers,  excessively  fatigued  by  the  sultry  march 
of  the  day,  their  clothes  wet  by  a  severe  shower  of  rain  that  suc 
ceeded  towards  the  evening,  their  blood  chilled  by  the  cold  wind 
that  produced  a  sudden  change  in  the  temperature  of  the  air,  and 
their  hearts  sunk  within  them  by  the  loss  of  baggage,  artillery,  and 
works  in  which  they  had  been  taught  to  put  great  confidence,  lay 
upon  their  arms,  covered  only  by  the  clouds  of  an  uncomfortable 
sky.  To  retrieve  our  disordered  affairs,  and  prevent  the  enemy 
from  profiting  by  them,  no  exertion  was  relaxed,  no  vigilance  re 
mitted  on  the  part  of  our  higher  officers.  The  regiments  which. 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  SOT 

had  been  least  exposed  to  fatigue  that  day,  furnished  the  necessary 
picquets  to  secure  the  army  from  surprise.  Those  whose  mili 
tary  lives  had  been  short  and  unpractised,  felt  enough  besides  las 
situde  of  body  to  disquiet  the  tranquillity  of  their  repose.  Nor  had 
those  who  were  older  in  service,  and  of  more  experience,  any 
subject  for  consolation.  The  warmth  of  enthusiasm  seemed  to  be 
extinguished.  The  force  of  discipline  had  not  sufficiently  occu 
pied  its  place  to  give  men  a  dependence  upon  each  other.  We 
wei-e  apparently  about  to  reap  the  bitter  fruits  of  that  jealous  po 
licy,  which  some  leading  men,  with  the  best  motives,  had  sown 
in  our  federal  councils,  when  they  caused  the  mode  to  be  adopted, 
for  carrying  on  the  war  by  detachments  of  militia,  from  appre- 
he»sion  that  an  established  Continental  army,  after  defending  the 
•country  against  foreign  invasion,  might  subvert  its  liberties  them 
selves.  Paradoxical  as  it  will  appear,  it  may  be  profitable  to  be 
known  to  posterity,  that  while  our  very  .existence  as  an  inde 
pendent  people  was  in  question,  the  patriotic  jealousy  for  the  safety 
of  our  future  freedom  had  been  carried  to  such  a  virtuous  but 
dangerous  excess,  as  well  nigh  to  preclude  the  attainment  of  our 
Independence.  Happily  that  limited  and  hazardous  system  soon 
gave  room  to  one  more  enlightened  and  salutary.  This  may  be 
attributed  to  the  reiterated  arguments,  the  open  remonstrances, 
and  the  confidential  communications  of  the  Commander  in  Chief; 
•who,  though  not  apt  to  despair  of  the  Republic,  on  this  occasion, 
expressed  himself  in  terms  of  unusual  despondency.  He  declared, 
in  his  letters,  that  he  found,  to  his  utter  astonishment  and  mortifU 
cation,  that  no  reliance  could  be  placed  on  a  great  proportion  of 
his  present  troops,  and  that,  unless  efficient  measures  for  esta 
blishing  a  permanent  force  should  be  speedily  pursued,  we  had 
every  reason  to  fear  the  final  ruin  of  our  cause. 

Next  morning  several  parties  of  the  enemy  appeared  upon  the 
plains  in  our  front.  On  receiving  this  intelligence,  General  Wash 
ington  rode  quickly  to  the  out-posts,  for  the  purpose  of  preparing 
against  an  attack,  if  the  enemy  should  advance  with  that  design. 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Knowlton's  rangers,  a  fine  selection  from  the 
eastern  regiments,  who  had  been  skirmishing  with  an  advanced 
party,  came  in,  and  informed  the  General  that  a  body  of  British 
were  under  cover  of  a  small  eminence  at  no  considerable  distance. 
His  Excellency,  willing  to  raise  our  men  from  their  dejection  by 
the  splendour  of  some  little  success,  ordered  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Knowlton,  with  his  rangers,  and  Major  Leitch,  with  three  compa 
nies  of  Weedon's  regiment  of  Virginians,  to  gain  their  rear;  while 
•appearances  should  be  made  of  an  attack  in  front.  As  soon  as  the 
enemy  saw  the  party  sent  to  decoy  them,  they  ran  precipitately 


308  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

down  the  hill,  took  possession  of  some  fences  and  bushes,  and  com 
menced  a  brisk  firing  at  long  shot.  Unfortunately  Knowlton  and 
Leitch  made  their  onset  rather  in  flank  than  in  rear.  The  enemy 
changed  their  front,  and  the  skirmish  at  once  became  close  and 
warm.  Major  Leitch*  having  received  three  balls  through  his 
side,  was  soon  borne  from  the  field ;  and  Colonel  Knowlton,  who 
had  distinguished  himself  so  gallantly  at  the  battle  of  Bunker- 
Hill,  was  mortally  wounded  immediately  after.  Their  men,  how 
ever,  undaunted  by  these  disasters,  stimulated  with  the  thirst  of 
revenge  for  the  loss  of  their  leaders,  and,  conscious  of  acting  un 
der  the  eye  of  the  Commander  in  Chief,  maintained  the  conflict 
with  uncommon  spirit  and  perseverance.  But  the  General,  seeing 
them  in  need  of  support,  advanced  part  of  the  Maryland  regi 
ments  of  Griffith  and  Richardson,  together  with  some  detach 
ments  from  such  eastern  corps  as  chanced  to  be  most  contiguous 
to  the  place  of  action.  Our  troops  this  day,  without  exception, 
behaved  with  the  greatest  intrepidity.  So  bravely  did  they  re 
pulse  the  British,  that  Sir  William  Howe  moved  his  reserve,  with 
two  field  pieces,  a  battalion  of  Hessian  grenadiers,  and  a  com 
pany  of  Chasseurs,  to  succour  his  retreating  troops.  General 
Washington,  not  willing  to  draw  on  a  general  action,  declined 
pressing  the  pursuit.  In  this  engagement  were  the  second  and 
third  battalions  of  light  infantry,  the  forty-second  British  regi 
ment,  and  the  German  Chasseurs,  of  whom  eight  officers,  and  up 
wards  of  seventy  privates  were  wounded,  and  our  people  buried 
nearly  twenty,  who  were  left  dead  on  the  field.  We  had  about 
forty  wounded :  our  loss  in  killed,  except  of  two  valuable  officers, 
Was  very  inconsiderable. 

AH  advantage,!  so  trivial  in  itself,  produced,  in  event,  a  sur- 

*  Major  Leitch,  after  languishing  some  days,  died  of  a  locked  jaw. 
•(•  A  transcript  from  General  Washington's  Public  Orders  of  the  seven-- 
teenth  will,  better  than  any  other  document  that  could  be  adduced,  show 
his  sentiment  on  the  conduct  of  the  two  preceding  days,  and  how  fer 
vently  he  wished  to  foster  the  good  dispositions  discovered  on  the  last. 

"  ORDERS. 

"  Head-quarters,  Haerlem  Heights,  September  17,  1776. 
"  Parole,  Leitch.       Countersign,  Virginia. 

"  The  General  most  heartily  thanks  the  troops  commanded  yesterday  by 
"  Major  Leitch,  who  first  advanced  upon  the  enemy,  and  the  others  who 
"  so  resolutely  supported  them.  The  behaviour  yesterday  was  such  a 
"  contrast  to  that  of  some  of  the  troops  the  day  before,  as  must  show 
"  what  may  be  done  where  officers  and  soldiers  will  exert  themselves. 
"  Once  more,  therefore,  the  General  calls  upon  offices  and  men,  to  act 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  SOS 

prising  and  almost  incredible  effect  upon  the  whole  army.  Amongst 
the  troops  not  engaged,  who,  during  the  action,  were  throwing 
earth  from  the  new  trenches,  with  an  alacrity  that  indicated  a  de 
termination  to  defend  them,  every  visage  was  seen  to  brighten, 
and  to  assume,  instead  of  the  gloom  of  despair,  the  glow  of  ani 
mation.  This  change,  no  less  sudden  than  happy,  left  little  room 
to  doubt  that  the  men,  who  ran  the  day  before  at  the  sight  of  an 
enemy,  would  now,  to  wipe  away  the  stain  of  that  disgrace,  and 
to  recover  the  confidence  of  their  General,  have  conducted  them 
selves  in  a  very  different  manner.  Some  alteration  was  made  in 
the  distribution  of  corps  to  prevent  the  British  from  gaining  either 
flank  in  the  succeeding  night.  General  Putnam,  who  commanded 
on  the  right,  was  directed  in  orders,  in  case  the  enemy  should 
attempt  to  force  the  pass,  to  apply  for  a  reinforcement  to  Gene 
ral  Spencer,  who  commanded  on  the  left. 

General  Putnam,  who  was  too  good  an  husbandman  himself 
not  to  have  a  respect  for  the  labours  and  improvements  of  others, 
strenuously  seconded  the  views  of  the  Commander  in  Chief  in 
preventing  the  devastation  of  farms,  and  the  violation  of  private 
property.  For  under  pretext  that  the  property  in  this  quarter 
belonged  to  friends  to  the  British  government,  as  indeed  it  mostly 
did,  a  spirit  of  rapine  and  licentiousness  began  to  prevail,  which, 
unless  repressed  in  the  beginning,  foreboded,  besides  the  subver 
sion  of  discipline,  the  disgrace  and  defeat  of  our  arms. 

Our  new  defences  now  becoming  so  strong  as  not  to  admit  in 
sult  with  impunity,  and  Sir  William  Howe,  not  choosing  to  place 
too  much  at  risk  in  attacking  us  in  front,  on  the  12th  day  of  Octo 
ber,  leaving  Lord  Piercy  with  one  Hessian  and  two  British  bri 
gades,  in  his  lines  at  Hae.rlem,  to  cover  New -York,  embarked  with 
the  main  body  of  his  army,  with  an  intention  of  landing  at  Frog's 
Neck,  situated  near  the  town  of  West-Chester,  and  little  more 
than  a  league  above  the  communication  called  King's-bridge, 
which  connects  New-York  Island  with  the  main.  There  was  no 
thing  to  oppose  him;  and  he  effected  his  debarkation  by  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  same  policy  of  keeping  our  army 
as  compact  as  possible ;  the  same  system  of  avoiding  being  forced 
to  action ;  and  the  same  precaution  to  prevent  the  interruption  of 

"  up  to  the  noble  cause  in  which  they  are  engaged,  and  to  support  the 
"  honour  and  liberties  of  their  country. 

"  The  gallant  and  brave  Colonel  Knowlton,  who  would  have  been  an 
"  honour  to  any  country,  having  fallen  yesterday,  while  gloriously  fight- 
"  ing,  Captain  Brown  is  to  take  the  command  of  the  party  lately  led  by 
"  Colonel  Kno\vlton.  Officers  and  men  are  to  obey  him  accordingly." 


310  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

supplies,  reinforcements  or  retreat,  that  lately  dictated  the  eva 
cuation  of  New-York,  now  induced  General  Washington  to  move 
towards  the  strong  grounds  in  the  upper  part  of  West-Chester 
county. 

About  the  same  time  General  Putnam  was  sent  to  the  western 
side  of  the  Hudson,  to  provide  against  an  irruption  into  the  Jer 
seys,  and  soon  after  to  Philadelphia,  to  put  that  town  into  a  pos 
ture  of  defence.  Thither  I  attend  him,  without  stooping  to 
dilate  on  the  subsequent  incidents,  that  might  swell  a  folio,  though 
here  compressed  to  a  single  paragraph ;  without  attempting  to 
give  in  detail  the  skilful  retrograde  movements  of  our  Com 
mander  in  Chief,  who,  after  detaching  a  garrison  for  Fort  Wash 
ington,  by  pre-occupying  with  extemporaneous  redoubts  and  en 
trenchments,  the  ridges  from  Mile-Square  to  White-Plains,  and 
by  folding  one  brigade  behind  another,  in  rear  of  those  ridges 
that  run  parallel  with  the  Sound)  brought  off  all  his  artillery, 
stores,  and  sick,  in  the  face  of  a  superior  foe;  without  com 
menting  on  the  partial  and  equivocal  battle  fought  near  the  last 
mentioned  village,  or  the  cause  why  the  British,  then  in  full 
force,  (for  the  last  of  the  Hessian  infantry  and  British  light- 
horse  had  just  arrived)  did  not  more  seriously  endeavour  to  induce 
a  general  engagement;  without  journalizing  their  military  ma 
noeuvres  in  falling  back  to  King's-bridge,  capturing  Fort  Wash 
ington,  Fort  Lee,  and  marching  through  the  Jerseys;  without 
enumerating  the  instances  of  rapine,  murder,  lust,  and  devasta 
tion,  that  marked  their  progress,  and  filled  our  bosoms  with 
horror  and  indignation ;  without  describing  how  a  division  of  our 
dissolving  army,  with  General  Washington,  was  driven  before 
them  beyond  the  Delaware ;  without  painting  the  naked  and  for 
lorn  condition  of  these  much  injured  men,  amidst  the  rigours  of 
an  inclement  season ;  and  without  even  sketching  the  consternation 
that  seized  the  States  at  this  perilous  period,  when  General  Lee, 
in  leading  from  the  north  a  small  reinforcement  to  our  troops, 
was  himself  taken  prisoner  by  surprise;  when  every  thing  seemed 
decidedly  declining  to  the  last  extremity,  and  when  every  prospect 
but  served  to  augment  the  depression  of  despair — until  the  genius 
of  one  man,  in  one  day,  at  a  single  stroke,  wrested  from  the  ve 
teran  battalions  of  Britain  and  Germany  the  fruits  acquired  by 
the  total  operations  of  a  successful  campaign,  and  re-animated 
the  expiring  hope  of  a  whole  nation,  by  the  glorious  enterprize 
at  Trenton. 

While  the  hostile  forces,  rashly  inflated  with  pride  by  a  series 
of  uninterrupted  successes,  and  fondly  dreaming  that  a  period 
would  soon  be  put  to  their  labours,  by  the  completion  of  their  con» 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  311 

quests,  had  been  pursuing  the  wretched  remnants  of  a  disbanded 
army  to  the  banks  of  the  Delaware,  General  Putnam  was  dili 
gently  employed  in  fortifying  Philadelphia,  the  capture  of  which 
appeared  indubitably  to  be  their  principal  object.  Here,  by  au 
thority  and  example,  he  strove  to  conciliate  contending  factions, 
and  to  excite  the  citizens  to  uncommon  efforts  in  defence  of  every 
thing  interesting  to  freemen.  His  personal  industry  was  unpa 
ralleled.  His  orders,*  with  respect  to  extinguishing  accidental 
fires,  advancing  the  public  works,  as  well  as  in  regard  to  other 
important  objects,  were  perfectly  military  and  proper.  But  hi* 
health  was,  for  a  while,  impaired  by  his  unrelaxed  exertions. 

The  Commander  in  Chief  having,  in  spite  of  all  obstacles, 
made  good  his  retreat  over  the  Delaware,  wrote  to  General  Put 
nam  from  his  Camp  above  the  Falls  of  Trenton,  on  the  very 
day  he  re-crossed  the  river  to  surprise  the  Hessians,  expressing 
his  satisfaction  at  the  re-establishment  of  that  General's  health, 
and  informing,  that  if  he  had  not  himself  been  well  convinced 
before  of  the  enemy's  intention  to  possess  themselves  of  Philadel 
phia,  as  soon  as  the  frost  should  form  ice  strong  enough  to  trans 
port  them  and  their  artillery  across  the  Delaware,  he  had  now 
obtained  an  intercepted  letter  which  placed  the  matter  beyond  a 
doubt.  He  added,  that  if  the  citizens  of  Philadelphia  had  any 
regard  for  the  town,  not  a  moment's  time  was  to  be  lost  until 
it  should  be  put  in  the  best  possible  posture  of  defence ;  but  least 
that  should  not  be  done,  he  directed  the  removal  of  all  public 
stores,  except  provisions  necessary  for  immediate  use,  to  place* 
of  greater  security.  He  queried  whether,  if  a  party  of  militia 
could  be  sent  from  Philadelphia  to  support  those  in  the  Jerseys, 

*  As  a  specimen,  the  following  is  preserved : 

"  GENERAL  ORDERS. 
"  Head-quarters,  Philadelphia,  December  14,  1776. 

"  Colonel  Griffin  is  appointed  Adjutant-General  to  the  troops  in  and 
"  about  this  city.  All  orders  from  the  General,  through  him,  either 
"  written  or  verbal,  are  to  be  strictly  attended  to  and  punctually  obeyed. 

"  In  case  of  an  alarm  of  fire,  the  city  guards  and  patroles  are  to  suffer 
"  the  inhabitants  to  pass,  unmolested,  at  any  hour  of  the  night ;  and  the 
"  good  people  of  Philadelphia  are  earnestly  requested  and  desired  to  give 
"  every  assistance  in  their  power,  with  engines  and  buckets,  to  extin- 
"  girsh  the  fire.  And  as  the  Congress  have  ordered  the  city  to  be  de- 
"  fended  to  the  last  extremity,  the  General  hopes  that  no  person  will 
"  refuse  to  give  every  assistance  possible  to  complete  the  fortifications  that 
"  are  to  be  erected  in  and  about  the  city. 

"  ISRAEL  PUTNAM." 


312  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

about  Mount-Holly,  it  would  not  serve  to  save  them  from  submis 
sion  ?  At  the  same  time  he  signified,  as  his  opinion,  the  expe 
diency  of  sending  an  active  and  influential  officer  to  inspirit  the 
people,  to  encourage  them  to  assemble  in  arms,  as  well  as  to  keep 
those  already  in  arms  from  disbanding;  and  concluded  by  mani 
festing  a  wish  that  Colonel  Forman,  whom  he  desired  to  see  for 
this  purpose,  might  be  employed  on  the  service. 

The  enemy  had  vainly,  as  incautiously,  imagined  that  to  over 
run  was  to  conquer.  They  had  even  carried  their  presumption  on 
our  extreme  weakness,  and  expected  submission  so  far  as  to  at 
tempt  covering  the  country  through  which  they  had  marched 
with  an  extensive  chain  of  cantonments.  That  link,  which  the 
post  at  Trenton  supplied,  consisted  of  a  Hessian  brigade  of  in 
fantry,  a  company  of  Chasseurs,  a  squadron  of  light  dragoons,  and 
six  field  pieces.  At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  twenty- 
sixth  of  December,  General  Washington,  with  twenty-four  hun 
dred  men,  came  upon  them,  after  they  had  paraded,  took  one 
thousand  prisoners,  and  re-passed  the  same  day,  without  loss,  to  his 
encampment.  As  soon  as  the  troops  were  recovered  from  their 
excessive  fatigue,  General  Washington  re-crossed  a  second  time 
to  Trenton.  On  the  second  of  January,  Lord  Cornwallis,  with  the 
bulk  of  the  British  army,  advanced  upon  him,  cannonaded  his  post, 
and  offered  him  battle :  but  the  two  armies  being  separated  by  the 
interposition  of  Trenton  Creek,  General  Washington  had  it  in  his 
option  to  decline  an  engagement,  which  he  did  for  the  sake  of 
striking  the  masterly  stroke  that  he  then  meditated.  Having  kind 
led  frequent  fires  around  his  camp,  posted  faithful  men  to  keep  them 
burning,  and  advanced  sentinels,  whose  fidelity  might  be  relied 
upon,  he  decamped  silently  after  dark,  and,  by  a  circuitous  route, 
reached  Princeton  at  nine  o'clock  the  next  morning.  The  noise 
of  the  firing,  by  which  he  killed  and  captured  between  five  and 
six  hundred  of  the  British  brigade  in  that  town,  was  the  first  no 
tice  Lord  Cornwallis  had  of  this  stolen  march.  General  Wash 
ington,  the  project  successfully  accomplished,  instantly  filed  off 
for  the  mountainous  grounds  of  Morris-Town.  Meanwhile,  his 
Lordship,  who  arrived,  by  a  forced  march,  at  Princeton,  just  as  he 
had  left  it,  finding  the  Americans  could  not  be  overtaken,  pro 
ceeded,  without  halting,  to  Brunswick. 

On  the  fifth  of  January,  1777,  from  Pluckemin,  General  Wash 
ington  dispatched  an  account  of  this  second  success  to  General 
Putnam,  and  ordered  him  to  move  immediately,  with  all  his  troops, 
to  Crosswick's,  for  the  purpose  of  co-operating  in  recovering  the 
Jerseys  ;  an  event  which  the  present  fortunate  juncture,  while  the 
enemy  were  yet  panic-struck,  appeared  to  promise.  The  General 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  SIS 

cautioned  him,  however,  if  the  enemy  should  still  continue  at 
Brunswick,  to  guard  with  great  circumspection  against  a  surprise  ; 
especially  as  they,  having  recently  suffered  by  two  attacks,  could 
scarcely  avoid  being  edged  with  resentment  to  attempt   retalia 
tion.     His  Excellency  farther  advised  him  to  give  out  his  strength 
to  be  twice  as  grettt  as  it  was  ;  to  forward  on  all  the  baggage  and 
scattering  men  belonging  to  the  division  destined  for  Morris-Town; 
to  employ  as  many  spies  as  he  should  think  proper ;  to  keep  a 
number  of  horsemen,  in  the  dress  of  the  country,  going  constantly 
backwards  and  forwards  on  the  same  secret  service ;  and,  lastly, 
if  he  should  discover  any  intention  or  motion  of  the  enemy  that 
could  be  depended  upon,  and  might  be  of  consequence,  not  to  fail 
in  conveying  the  intelligence,  as  rapidly  as  possible  by  express,  to 
Head-Quarters.     Major-General  Putnam  was  directed  soon  after 
to  take  post  at  Princeton,  where  he  continued  until  the  spring. 
He  had  never  with  him  more  than  a  few  hundred  troops,  though  he 
was  only  at  fifteen  miles  distance  from  the  enemy's  strong  garrison 
of  Brunswick.     At  one  period,  from  a  sudden  diminution,  occa 
sioned  by  the  tardiness  of  the  militia  turning  out  to  replace  those 
whose  time  of  service  was  expired,  he  had  fewer  men  for  duty 
than  he  had  miles  of  frontier  to  guard.    Nor  was  the  Commander 
in  Chief  in  a  more  eligible  situation.     It  is  true,  that  while  he  had 
scarcely  the  semblance  of  an  army,  under  the  specious  parade  of 
a  park  of  artillery,  and  the  imposing  appearance  of  his  Head- 
Quarters,  established  at  Morris-Town,  he  kept  up,  in  the  eyes  of 
his  countryir  3n,  as  well  as  in  the  opinion  of  his  enemy,  the  ap 
pearance  of  no  contemptible  force.     Future  generations  will  find 
difficulty  in  conceiving  how  a  handful  of  new-levied  men  and  mi 
litia,  who  wei^  necessitated  to  be  inoculated  for  the  small-pox 
in  the  course  of  the  winter,  could  be  subdivided  and  posted  so  ad 
vantageously,  as  effectually  to  protect  the  inhabitants,  confine  the 
enemy,  curtail  their  forage,  and  beat  up  their  quarters,  without 
sustaining  a  single  disaster. 

In  the  battle  of  Princeton,  Captain  M'Pherson,  of  the  17th 
British  regiment,  a  very  worthy  Scotchman,  was  desperately 
wounded  in  the  lungs,  and  left  with  the  dead.  Upon  General  Put 
nam':;  arrival  there,  he  found  him  languishing  in  extreme  distress, 
without  a  surgeon,  without  a  single  accommodation,  and  without 
a  friend  to  solace  the  sinking  spirit  in  the  gloomy  hour  of  death. 
He  visited,  and  immediately  caused  every  possible  comfort  to  be 
administered  to  him.  Captain  M'Pherson,  who,  contrary  to  all 
appearances,  recovered,  after  having  demonstrated  to  General 
Putnam  the  dignified  tense  of  obligations  which  a  generous  mind 
wishes  not  to  conceal,  one  day,  in  familiar  conversation,  demanded, 

28 


3H  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

"  Pray,  Sir,  what  countryman  are  you?" — "  An  American," 
answered  the  latter. — "  Not  a  Yankee  ?"  said  the  other. — "  A  full- 
"  blooded  one,"  replied  the  General.  "  By  G — d,  I  am  sorry  for 
"  that,"  rejoined  M'Pherson,  "  I  did  not  think  there  could  be  so 
"  much  goodness  and  generosity  in  an  American,  or,  indeed,  in 
"  any  body  but  a  Scotchman." 

While  the  recovery  of  Captain  M'Pherson  was  doubtful,  he  de 
sired  that  General  Putnam  would  permit  a  friend  in  the  British 
army  at  Brunswick  to  come  and  assist  him  in  making  HIS  WILL. 
General  Putnam,  who  had  then  only  fifty  men  in  his  whole  com 
mand,  was  sadly  embarrassed  by  the  proposition.  On  the  one 
hand,  he  was  not  content  that  a  British  officer  should  have  an  op 
portunity  to  spy  out  the  weakness  of  his  post ;  on  the  other,  it  was 
scarcely  in  his  nature  to  refuse  complying  with  a  dictate  of  huma 
nity.  He  luckily  bethought  himself  of  an  expedient  which  he  has 
tened  to  put  in  practice.  A  flag  of  truce  was  dispatched  with 
Captain  M'Pherson's  request,  but  under  an  injunction  not  to  re 
turn  with  his  friend  until  after  dark.  In  the  evening  lights  were 
placed  in  all  the  rooms  of  the  College,  and  in  every  apartment  of 
the  vacant  houses  throughout  the  town.  During  the  whole  night, 
the  fifty  men,  sometimes  altogether,  and  sometimes  in  small  de 
tachments,  were  inarched  from  different  quarters  by  the  house  in 
which  M'Pherson  lay.  Afterwards  it  was  known  that  the  officer 
who  came  on  the  visit,  at  his  return,  reported  that  General  Put 
nam's  army,  upon  the  most  moderate  calculation,  could  not  con 
sist  of  less  than  four  or  five  thousand  men. 

This  winter's  campaign,  for  our  troops  constantly  kept  the  field 
after  regaining  a  footing  in  the  Jerseys,  has  never  yet  been  faithfully 
and  feelingly  described.  The  sudden  restoration  of  our  cause  from 
the  very  verge  of  ruin  was  interwoven  with  such  a  tissue  of  inscru 
table  causes  and  extraordinary  events,  that,  fearful  of  doing  the 
subject  greater  injustice,  by  a  passing  disquisition  than  a  purposed 
silence,  I  leave  it  to  the  leisure  of  abler  pens.  The  ill  policy  of 
the  British  doubtless  contributed  to  accelerate  this  event.  For  the 
manner,  impolitic  as  inhuman,  in  which  they  managed  their  tem 
porary  conquests,  tended  evidently  to  alienate  the  affections  of  their 
adherents,  to  confirm  the  wavering  in  an  opposite  interest,  to  rouse 
the  supine  into  activity,  to  assemble  the  dispersed  to  the  standard 
of  America,  and  to  infuse  a  spirit  of  revolt  into  the  minds  of  those 
men  who  had,  from  necessity,  submitted  to.  their  power.  Their 
conduct  in  warring  with  fire  and  sword  against  the  imbecility  of 
youth,  and  the  decrepitude  of  age ;  against  the  arts,  the  sciences, 
the  curious  inventions,  and  the  elegant  improvements  in  civilized 
life;  against  the  melancholy  widow,  the  miserable  orphan,  the 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  311 

peaceable  professor  of  humane  literature,  and  the  sacred  minis 
ter  of  the  gospel,  seemed  to  operate  as  powerfully,  as  if  purposely 
intended  to  kindle  the  dormant  spark  of  resistance  into  an  inex 
tinguishable  flame.  If  we  add  to  the  black  catalogue  of  provo 
cations  already  enumerated,  their  insatiable  rapacity  in  plunder 
ing  friends  and  foes  indiscriminately ;  their  libidinous  brutality  in 
violating  the  chastity  of  the  female  sex ;  their  more  than  Gothic 
rage  in  defacing  private  writings,  public  records,  libraries  of  learn 
ing,  dwellings  of  individuals,  edifices  for  education,  and  temples  of 
the  Deity ;  together  with  their  insufferable  ferocity,  unprecedented 
indeed  among  civilized  nations,  in  murdering  on  the  field  of  battle 
the  wounded  while  begging  for  mercy,  in  causing  their  prisoners 
to  famish  with  hunger  and  cold  in  prisons  and  prison  ships,  and  in 
carrying  their  malice  beyond  death  itself,  by  denying  the  decent 
rites  of  sepulture  to  the  dead ;  we  shall  not  be  astonished  that  the 
yeomanry  in  the  two  Jerseys,  when  the  first  glimmering  of  hope 
began  to  break  in  upon  them,  rose  as  one  man,  with  the  unalter 
able  resolution  to  perish  in  the  generous  cause,  or  expel  their  mer 
ciless  invaders. 

The  principal  officers,  stationed  at  a  variety  of  well-chosen, 
and  at  some  almost  inaccessible  positions,  seemed  all  to  be  actu 
ated  by  the  same  soul,  and  only  to  vie  with  each  other  in  giving 
proofs  of  vigilance,  enterprise  and  valour.  From  what  has  been 
said  respecting  the  scantiness  of  our  aggregate  force,  it  will  be 
concluded,  that  the  number  of  men,  under  the  orders  of  each, 
was  indeed  very  small.  But  the  uncommon  alertness  of  the 
troops,  who  were  incessantly  hovering  round  the  enemy  in  scouts, 
and  the  constant  communication  they  kept  between  the  several 
stations  most  contiguous  to  each  other,  agreeably  to  the  instruc 
tions*  of  the  General  in  Chief,  together  with  their  readiness  in 


*  The  annexed  private  orders  to  Lord  Stirling  will  show,  in  a  laconic 
and  military  manner,  the  system  of  service  then  pursued  : 

"  To  Brigadier-General  Lord  STIRLING. 

"  MY  LORD, 

"  You  are  to  repair  to  Baskenridge,  and  take  upon  you  the  command 
"  of  the  troops  now  there,  and  such  as  may  be  sent  to  your  care. 

"  You  are  to  endeavour,  as  much  as  possible,  to  harass  and  annoy  the 
"  enemy,  by  keeping  scouting  parties  constantly,  or  as  frequently  as  pos- 
"  sible,  around  their  quarters. 

"  As  you  will  be  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Generals  Dickenson  and 
"  Warner,  I  recommend  it  to  you  to  keep  up  a  correspondence  with  them, 


816  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM* 

giving,  and  confidence  of  receiving  such  reciprocal  aid  as  the 
exigencies  might  require,  served  to  supply  the  defect  of  force. 

This  manner  of  doing  duty  not  only  put  our  own  posts  beyond 
the  reach  of  sudden  insult  and  surprise,  but  so  exceedingly  ha- 
rassed  and  intimidated  the  enemy,  that  foragers  were  seldom 
sent  out  by  them,  and  never  except  in  very  large  parties.  Gene- 
ral  Dickenson,  who  commanded  on  General  Putnam's  left,  disco 
vered,  about  the  20th  of  January,  a  foraging  party,  consisting  of 
about  four  hundred  men,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Mill-Stone, 
two  miles  from  Somerset  court-house.  As  the  bridge  was  pos 
sessed  and  defended  by  three  field-pieces,  so  that  it  could  not  be 
passed,  General  Dickenson,  at  the  head  of  four  hundred  militia, 
broke  the  ice,  crossed  the  river  where  the  water  was  about  three 
feet  deep,  resolutely  attacked,  and  totally  defeated  the  foragers. 
Upon  their  abandoning  the  convoy,  a  few  prisoners,  forty  wag 
gons,  and  more  than  a  hundred  draft-horses,  with  a  considerable 
booty  of  cattle  and  sheep,  fell  into  his  hands. 

Nor  were  our  operations  on  General  Putnam's  right  flank  less 
fortunate.  To  give  countenance  to  the  numerous  friends  of  the 
British  government  in  the  county  of  Monmouth  appears  to  have 
been  a  principal  motive  with  Sir  William  Howe  for  stretching 
the  chain  of  his  cantonments,  by  his  own  confession,*  previously  to 

"  and  endeavour  to  regulate  your  parties  by  theirs,  so  as  to  have  some 
"  constantly  out. 

"  Use  every  means  in  your  power  to  obtain  intelligence  from  the 
"  enemy;  which  may  possibly  be  better  effected  by  engaging  some  of 
"  those  people  who  have  obtained  Protections  to  go  in,  under  pretence  of 
"  asking  advice,  than  by  any  other  means. 

"  You  will  also  use  every  means  in  your  power  to  obtain  and  conimu- 
"  nicate  the  earliest  accounts  of  the  enemy's  movements;  and  to  assemble, 
"  in  the  speediest  manner  possible,  your  troops  either  for  offence  or  de- 
"  fence. 

"  Given  at  If ead -Quarters,  the  fourth  day  (f  February,  1777. 

"  GEO.  WASHINGTON." 

*  Extract  of  a  letter  from  General  Sir  WILLIAM  HOWE  to  Lord  GEORGE 
GERMAINE,  dated  New-Tori;  December  20,  1776. 

Having  mentioned  the  fruitless  attempt  of  Lord  Cormvallis  to  find 
boats  at  Gorryel's  ferry  to  pass  the  Delaware — he  proceeds  thus : 

"  The  passage  of  the  Delaware  being  thus  rendered  impracticable,  his 
"  Lordship  took  post  at  Pennington,  in  which  place  and  Trenton  the  two 
"  divisions  remained  until  the  fourteenth,  when  the  weather  having  be- 
"  come  too  severe  to  keep  the  field,  and  the  winter  cantonments  being 
*f  arranged,  the  troops  marched  from  both  places  to  their  respective  sta- 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  31f 

his  disaster,  rather  too  far.  After  that  chain  became  broken,  as 
I  have  already  related,  by  the  blows  at  Trenton  and  Princeton, 
he  was  obliged  to  collect,  during  the  rest  of  the  winter,  the  use 
less  remains  in  his  barracks  at  Brunswick.  In  the  meantime, 
General  Putnam  was  much  more  successful  in  his  attempt  to  pro 
tect  our  dispersed  and  dispirited  friends  in  the  same  district; 
who,  environed  on  every  side  by  envenomed  adversaries,  remained 
inseparably  rivetted  in  affection  to  American  independence.  He 
first  detached  Colonel  Gurney,  and  afterwards  Major  Davis,* 
with  such  parties  of  militia  as  could  be  spared,  for  their  support. 
Several  skirmishes  ensued,  in  which  our  people  had  always  the 
advantage.  They  took,  at  different  times,  many  prisoners,  horses 
and  waggons  from  foraging  parties.  In  effect,  so  well  did  they 
cover  the  country,  as  to  induce  some  of  the  most  respectable  in 
habitants  to  declare,  that  the  security  of  the  persons,  as  well  as 
the  salvation  of  the  property  of  many  friends  to  freedom,  was 
owing  to  the  spirited  exertions  of  these  two  detachments ;  who, 
at  the  same  time  that  they  rescued  the  country  from  the  tyranny 
of  tories,  afforded  an  opportunity  for  the  militia  to  recover  from 
their  consternation,  to  embody  themselves  in  warlike  array,  and 
to  stand  on  their  defence. 

During  this  period,  General  Putnam  having  received  unques- 

"  tions.  The  chain,  I  own,  is  rather  too  extensive,  but  I  was  induced  to 
"  occupy  Burlington  to  cover  the  county  of  Monmouth,  in  which  there 
"  are  many  loyal  inhabitants;  and  trusting  to  the  almost  general  submis- 
"  sion  of  the  country  to  the  southward  of  this  chain,  and  to  the  strength 
"  of  the  corps  placed  in  the  advanced  posts,  I  conclude  the  troops  will 
"  be  in  perfect  security." 

*  As  there  happened  to  be  in  my  possession  a  copy  of  one  of  his  letters 
to  those  officers,  it  was  thought  worthy  of  insertion  here,  in  order  ta 
demonstrate  his  satisfaction  with  their  conduct. 

"  To  Major  JOHN  DAVIS,  of  the  third  Battalion  of  Cumberland 

"  County  Militia. 
"  SIR, 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  activity,  vigour,  and  diligence 
"  since  you  have  been  under  my  command ;  you  will,  therefore,  march 
'  your  men  to  Philadelphia,  and  there  discharge  them ;  returning  into 
"  the  store  all  the  ammunition,  arms  and  accoutrements  you  received 
"  at  that  place. 

"  I  am,  Sir,  your  humble  servant, 

"  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 
"  Princeton,  February  5,  1777." 


S18  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

tionable  intelligence  that  a  party  of  refugees,  in  British  pay\ 
had  taken  post,  and  were  erecting  a  kind  of  redoubt  at  Lawrence's 
Neck,  sent  Colonel  Nelson,  with  one  hundred  and  fifty  militia,  to 
surprise  them.  That  officer  conducted  with  so  much  secrecy  and 
decision  as  to  take  the  whole  prisoners*  These  refugees*  were 
commanded  by  Major  Stockton,  belonging  to  Skinner's  brigade, 
and  amounted  to  sixty  in  number. 

A  short  time  after  this  event  Lord  Cornwallis  sent  out  another 
foraging  party  towards  Bound-Brook.  General  Putnam,  having 
received  notice  from  his  emissaries,  detached  Major  Smith,  with 
a  few  riflemen,  to  annoy  the  party,  and  followed  himself  with  the 
rest  of  his  force.  Before  he  could  come  up,  Major  Smith,  who 
had  formed  an  ambush,  attacked  the  enemy,  killed  several  horses, 
took  a  few  prisoners  and  sixteen  baggage-waggons,  without  sus 
taining  any  injury.  By  such  operations,  our  hero,  in  the  course 
of  the  winter,  captured  nearly  a  thousand  prisoners. 

In  the  latter  part  of  February  General  Washington  advised 
General  Putnam,  that,  in  consequence  of  a  large  accession  of 
strength  from  New-York  to  the  British  army  at  Brunswick,  it  was 
to  be  apprehended  they  would  soon  make  a  forward  movement 
towards  the  Delaware :  in  which  case  the  latter  was  directed  to 
cross  the  river  with  his  actual  force,  to  assume  the  command  of 
the  militia  who  might  assemble,  to  secure  the  boats  on  the  west 
side  of  the  Delaware,  and  to  facilitate  the  passage  of  the  rest  of 
the  army.  But  the  enemy  did  not  remove  from  their  winter-quar 
ters  until  the  season  arrived  when  green  forage  could  be  supplied. 
In  the  intermediate  period,  the  correspondence  on  the  part  of 
General  Putnam  with  the  Commander  in  Chief  consisted  princi 
pally  of  reports  and  inquiries  concerning  the  treatment  of  some 
of  the  following  descriptions  of  persons :  either  of  those  who  came 
•within  our  lines  with  flags  and  pretended  flags,  or  who  had  taken 
protection  from  the  enemy,  or  who  had  been  reputed  disaffected 
to  our  cause,  or  who  were  designed  to  be  comprehended  in  the 
American  Proclamation,  which  required  that  those  who  had  taken 
protections  should  give  them  to  the  nearest  American  officer,  or 

*  Extract  of  a  letter  from  General  PUTNAM  to  the  Council  of  Safety  of 

Pennsylvania,  dated  at  Princeton,  February  18,  1777. 
"  Yesterday  evening  Colonel  Nelson,  with  a  hundred  and  fifty  men, 
,"  at  Lawrence's  Neck,  attacked  sixty  men  of  Cortlandt  Skinner's  Bri- 
"  gade,  commanded  by  the  enemy's  RENOWSTED  LAND  PILOT  Major 
"  Richard  Stockton,  routed  them,  and  took  the  whole  prisoners — among 
"  them  the  Major,  a  Captain  and  three  subalterns,  with  seventy  stand  of 
"  arms.  Fifty  of  the  Bedford  Pennsylvania  Riflemen  bebated  lite  veterans.'" 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  319 

go  within  the  British  lines.  The  letters  of  his  Excellency  in  re 
turn,  generally  advisory,  were  indicative  of  confidence  and  ap 
probation. 

When  the  spring  had  now  so  far  advanced  that  it  was  obvious 
the  enemy  would  soon  take  the  field,  the  Commander  in  Chief, 
after  desiring  General  Putnam  to  .give  the  officer  who  was  to  re 
lieve  him  at  Princeton,  all  the  information  necessary  for  the  con 
duct  of  that  post,  appointed  that  General  to  the  command  of  a 
separate  army  in  the  Highlands  of  New-York. 

It  is  scarcely  decided,  from  any  documents  yet  published,  whe 
ther  the  preposterous  plans  prosecuted  by  the  British  Generals  in 
the  campaign  of  1777,  were  altogether  the  result  of  their  orders 
from  home,  or  whether  they  partially  originated  from  the  contin 
gencies  of  the  moment.  The  system  which,  at  the  time,  tended 
to  puzzle  all  human  conjecture,  when  developed,  served  also  to 
contradict  all  reasonable  calculation.  Certain  it  is,  the  American 
Commander  in  Chief  was,  for  a  considerable  time,  so  perplexed 
with  contradictory  appearances,  that  he  knew  not  how  to  distri 
bute  his  troops,  with  his  usual  discernment,  so  as  to  oppose  the 
enemy  with  equal  prospect  of  success  in  different  parts.  The  ga 
thering  tempests  menaced  the  northern  frontiers,  the  posts  in  the 
Highlands,  and  the  city  of  Philadelphia ;  but  it  was  still  doubtful 
where  the  fury  of  the  storm  would  fall.  Atone  time  Sir  William 
Howe  was  forcing  his  way  by  land  to  Philadelphia;  at  another, 
relinquishing  the  Jerseys  ;  at  a  third,  facing  round  to  make  a  sud 
den  inroad;  then  embarking  with  all  the  forces  that  could  be 
spared  from  New-York ;  and  then  putting  cut  to  sea,  at  the  very 
moment  when  General  Burgoyne  had  reduced  Ticonderoga,  and 
seemed  to  require  a  co-operation  in  another  quarter. 

On  our  side,  we  have  seen  that  the  old  Continental  army  ex 
pired  with  the  year  1776 ;  since  which,  invention  had  been  tor 
tured  with  expedients,  and  zeal  with  efforts  to  levy  another :  for 
on  the  success  of  the  recruiting  service  depended  the  salvation  of 
the  country.  The  success  was  such  as  not  to  puff  us  up  to  pre 
sumption,  or  depress  us  to  despair.  The  army  in  the  Jerseys,  un 
der  the  orders  of  the  General  in  Chief,  consisted  of  all  the  troops 
raised  south  of  the  Hudson  ;  that  in  the  northern  department,  of 
the  New-Hampshire  brigade,  two  brigades  of  Massachusetts, 
and  the  brigade  of  New- York,  together  with  some  irregular  corps; 
and  that  in  the  Highlands,  of  the  remaining  two  brigades  of  Mas 
sachusetts,  the  Connecticut  line,  consisting  of  two  brigades,  the 
brigade  of  Rhode-Island,  and  one  regiment  of  New-York.  Upon 
hearing  of  the  loss  of  Ticonderoga,  and  the  progress  of  the  British 
towards  Albany,  General  Washington  ordered  Uxe  northern  army 


S20  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

to  be  reinforced  with  the  two  brigades  of  Massachusetts,  then  in 
the  Highlands;  and,  upon  finding  the  army  under  his  immediate 
command  out-numbered  by  that  of  Sir  William  Howe,  which  had, 
by  the  circuitous  route  of  the  Chesapeak,  invaded  Pennsylvania, 
he  also  called  from  the  Highlands  one  of  the  Connecticut  brigades, 
and  that  of  Rhode-Island,  to  his  own  assistance. 

In  the  neighbourhood  of  General  Putnam  there  was  no  enemy 
capable  of  exciting  alarms.     The  army  left  at  New-York  seemed 
only  designed  for  its  defence.     In  it  were  several  entire  corps, 
composed  of  tories,  who  had  flocked  to  the   British  standard. 
There  was,  besides,  a  band  of  lurking  miscreants,  not  properly 
enrolled,  who  staid  chiefly  at  West-Chester ;  from  whence  they 
infested  the  country  between  the  two  armies,  pillaged  the  cattle, 
and  carried  off  the  peaceable  inhabitants.    It  was  an  unworthy  po 
licy  in  British  generals  to  patronize  banditti.     The  whig  inhabit 
ants  on  the  edge  of  our  lines,  and  still  lower  down,  who  had  been 
plundered  in  a  merciless  manner,  delayed  not  to  strip  the  tories 
in  return.     People  most  nearly  connected  and  allied  frequently 
became  most  exasperated  and  inveterate  in  malice.    Then  the  ties 
of  fellowship  were  broken — then  friendship  itself  being  soured  to 
enmity,  the  mind  readily  gave  way  to  private  revenge,  uncon- 
trouled  retaliation,  and  all  the  deforming  passions  that  disgrace 
humanity.    Enormities,  almost  without  a  name,  were  perpetrated, 
at  the  description  of  which,  the  bosom,  not  frozen  to  apathy,  must 
glow  with  a  mixture  of  pity  and  indignation.    To  prevent  the  pre 
datory  incursions  from  below,  and  to  cover  the  county  of  West- 
Chester,  General  Putnam  detached  from  his  Head-Quarters,  at 
Peek's-Kill,  Meigs's  regiment,  which,  in  the  course  of  the  cam 
paign,  struck  several  partizan  strokes,  and  achieved  the  objects 
for  which  it  was  sent.    He  likewise  took  measures,  without  noise 
or  ostentation,  to  secure  himself  from  being  surprised  and  carried 
within  the  British  lines  by  the  tories,  who  had  formed  a  plan  for 
the  purpose.     The  information  of  this  intended  enterprise,  con 
veyed  to  him  through  several  channels,  was  corroborated  by  that 
obtained  and  transmitted  by  the  Commander  in  Chief. 

It  was  not  wonderful,  that  many  of  these  tories  were  able, 
undiscovered,  to  penetrate  far  into  the  country,  and  even  to  go 
with  letters  or  messages  from  one  British  army  to  another.  The 
inhabitants  who  were  well  affected  to  the  royal  cause,  afforded  them 
every  possible  support,  and  their  own  knowledge  of  the  different 
routes  gave  them  a  farther  felicity  in  performing  their  peregri 
nations.  Sometimes  the  most  active  loyalists,  as  the  tories 
wished  to  denominate  themselves,  who  had  gone  into  the  British 
posts,  and  received  promises  of  commissions  upon  enlisting  a  cer- 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  321 

tain  number  of  soldiers,  came  back  again  secretly  with  recruiting 
instructions.  Sometimes  these,  and  others  who  came  from  the 
enemy  within  the  verge  of  our  camps,  were  detected  and  con 
demned  to  death,  in  conformity  to  the  usages  of  war.  But  the  Bri 
tish  generals-  who  had  an  unlimited  supply  of  money  at  their  com 
mand,  were  able  to  pay  with  so  much  liberality,  that  emissaries 
could  always  be  found.  Still,  it  is  thought  that  the  intelligence  of 
the  American  Commanders  was,  at  least,  equally  accurate ;  not 
withstanding  the  poverty  of  their  military  chest,  and  the  inability 
of  rewarding  mercenary  agents,  for  secret  services,  in  proportion 
to  their  ri.;k  and  merit. 

A  person,  by  the  name  of  Palmer,  who  was  a  lieutenant  in  the 
tory  new  levies,  was  detected  in  the  camp  at  Peek's-Kill.  Go 
vernor  Tryon,  who  commanded  the  new  levies,  reclaimed  him  as 
a  British  officer,  represented  the  heinous  crime  of  condemning  a 
man  commissioned  by  his  Majesty,  and  threatened  vengeance 
in  case  he  should  be  executed.  General  Putnam  wrote  the  fol 
lowing  pithy  reply* 
"Sin, 

"  Nathan  Palmer,  a  lieutenant  in  your  King's  service,  was  taken 
"  in  my  camp  as  a  Spy — he  was  tried  as  a  Spy — he  was  con- 
11  demned  as  a  Sfiy*— and  you  may  rest  assured,  Sir,  he  shall  be 
"  hanged  as  a  Spy. 

u  I  have  the  honour  to  be,  &c. 

"  ISRAEL  PUTNAM. 
"  His  Excellency  Governor  TRTON. 

"  P.  S.  Afternoon.     He  is  hanged." 

Important  transactions  soon  occurred.  Not  long  after  the  two 
brigades  had  marched  from  Peek's-Kill  to  Pennsylvania,  a  rein 
forcement  arrived  at  New-York  from  Europe.  Appearances  in 
dicated  that  offensive  operations  would  follow.  General  Putnam 
having  been  1'educed  in  force  to  a  single  brigade  in  the  field,  and 
a  single  regiment  in  garrison  at  Fort  Montgomery,  repeatedly  in 
formed  the  Commander  in  Chief,  that  the  posts  committed  to  his 
charge  must,  in  all  probability,  be  lost,  in  case  an  attempt  should 
be  made  upon  them ;  and  that,  circumstanced  as  he  was,  he  could 
not  be  responsible  for  the  consequences.  His  situation  was  cer 
tainly  to  be  lamented ;  but  it  was  not  in  the  power  of  the  Com 
mander  in  Chief  to  alter  it,  except  by  authorising  him  to  call  upon 
the  militia  for  aid — an  aid  always  precarious,  and  often  so  tardy, 
as,  when  obtained,  to  be  of  no  utility. 

On  the  fifth  of  October  Sir  Henry  Clinton  came  up  the  North- 
River  with  three  thousand  men.  After  making  many  feints  to 

2T 


322  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM, 

mislead  the  attention,  he  landed,  the  next  morning,  at  Stony-Point  7 
and  commenced  his  march  over  the  mountains  to  Fort  Montgo 
mery.  Governor  Clinton,  an  active,  resolute,  and  intelligent  of 
ficer,  who  commanded  the  garrison,  upon  being  apprised  of  the 
movement,  dispatched  a  letter,  by  express,  to  General  Putnam  for 
succour.  By  the  treachery  of  the  messenger,  the  letter  miscarried. 
General  Putnam,  astonished  at  hearing  nothing  respecting  the 
enemy,  rode,  with  General  Parsons,  and  Colonel  Root,  his  Adju 
tant-General,  to  reconnoitre  them  at  King's  Ferry.  In  the  mean 
time,  at  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  Sir  Henry  Clinton's  co 
lumns,  having  surmounted  the  obstacles  and  barriers  of  nature,  de 
scended  from  the  Thunder-Hill,  through  thickets  impassible  but 
for  light  troops,  and  *  attacked  the  different  redoubts.  The  gar 
rison,  inspired  by  the  conduct  of  their  leaders,  defended  the  works 
with  distinguished  valour.  But,  as  the  post  had  been  designed 
principally  to  prevent  the  passing  of  ships,  and  as  an  assault  in 
rear  had  not  been  expected,  the  works  on  the  land  side  were  in 
complete  and  untenable.  In  the  dusk  of  twilight,  the  British  en 
tered  with  their  bayonets  fixed.  Their  loss  was  inconsiderable. 
Nor  was  that  of  the  garrison  great.  Governor  Clinton,  his  bro- 

*  The  author  of  these  Memoirs,  then  Major  of  Brigade  to  the  first 
Connecticut  brigade,  was  alone  at  Head-Quarters  when  the  firing  began. 
He  hastened  to  Colonel  Wyllys,  the  senior  officer  in  camp,  and  advised 
him  to  dispatch  all  the  men  not  on  duty  to  Fort  Montgomery,  without 
waiting  for  orders.  About  five  hundred  men  marched  instantly  under  Co 
lonel  Meigs ;  and  the  author,  with  Dr.  Beardsley,  a  surgeon  in  the  bri 
gade,  rode,  at  full  speed,  through  a  bye -path,  to  let  the  garrison  know, 
that  a  reinforcement  was  on  its  march.  Notwithstanding  all  the  haste 
these  officers  made  to  and  over  the  river,  the  fort  was  so  completely  in 
vested  on  their  arrival,  that  it  was  impossible  to  enter.  They  w«nt  on 
board  the  new  frigate  which  lay  near  the  fortress,  and  had  the  misfor 
tune  to  be  idle,  though  not  unconcerned  spectators  of  the  storm.  They 
saw  the  minutest  actions  distinctly  when  the  works  were  carried.  The 
frigate,  after  receiving  several  platoons,  slipped  her  cable,  and  proceeded 
a  little  way  up  the  river;  but  the  wind  and:  tide  becoming  adverse,  the 
crew  set  her  on  fire,  to  prevent  her  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
whose  ships  were  approaching.  The  louring  darkness  of  the  night,  the 
profound  stillness  that  reigned,  the  interrupted  flashes  of  the  flames  that 
illuminated  the  waters,  the  long  shadows  of  the  cliffs  that  now  and  then 
were  seen,  the  explosion  of  the  cannon  which  were  left  loaded  in  the 
ship,  and  the  reverberating  echo  which  resounded,  at  intervals,  between 
the  stupendous  mountains  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  composed  an  awful 
night-piece  for  persons  prepared  by  the  preceding  scene,  to  contemplate, 
subjects  of  horrid  sublimity. 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  323 

ther  General  James  Clinton,  Colonel  Dubois,  and  most  of  the  of 
ficers  and  men  effected  their  escape  under  cover  of  the  thick 
smoke  and  darkness  that  suddenly  prevailed.  The  capture  of  this 
fort  by  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  together  with  the  consequent  removal 
of  the  chains  and  booms  that  obstructed  the  navigation,  opened  a 
passage  to  Albany,  and  seemed  to  favour  a  junction  of  his  force 
with  that  of  General  Burgoyne.  But  the  latter  having  been  com 
pelled  to  capitulate  a  few  days  after  this  event,  and  great  num 
bers  of  militia  having  arrived  from  New-England,  the  successful 
army  returned  to  New-York  ;  yet  not  before  a  detachment  from 
it,  under  the  orders  of  General  Vaughan,  had  burnt  the  defence 
less  town  of  Esopus,  and  several  scattering  buildings  on  the  banks 
of  the  river. 

Notwithstanding  the  army  in  the  Highlands  had  been  so  much 
weakened,  for  the  sake  of  strengthening  the  armies  in  other  quar 
ters,  as  to  have  occasioned  the  loss  of  Fort  Montgomery,  yet  that 
loss  was  productive  of  no  consequences.  Our  main  army  in  Penn 
sylvania,  after  having  contended  with  superior  force  in  two  inde 
cisive  battles,  still  held  the  enemy  in  check  ;  while  the  splendid 
success  which  attended  our  arms  at  the  northward,  gave  a  more 
favourable  aspect  to  .the  American  affairs,  at  the  close  of  this 
campaign,  than  they  had  ever  before  assumed. 

When  the  enemy  fell  back  to  New-York  by  water,  we  followed 
them  a  part  of  the  way  by  land.  Colonel  Meigs,  with  a  detach 
ment  from  the  several  regiments  in  General  Parsons's  brigade, 
having  made  a  forced  march  from  Crompond  to  West-Chester, 
surprised  and  broke  up  for  a  time  the  band  of  freebooters,  of 
whom  he  brought  off  fifty,  together  with  many  cattle  and  horses 
which  they  had  recently  stolen. 

Soon  after  this  enterprise  General  Putnam  advanced  towards 
the  British  lines.  As  he  had  received  intelligence  that  small 
bodies  of  the  enemy  were  out,  with  orders  from  Governor  Tryon 
to  burn  Wright's  mills,  he  prevented  it  by  detaching  three  par 
ties,  of  one  hundred  men  in  each.  One  of  these  parties  fell  in 
with  and  captured  thirty-five,  and  another  forty  of  the  new  levies. 
But  as  he  could  not  prevent  a  third  hostile  party  from  burning  the 
house  of  Mr.  Van  Tassel,  a  noted  whig  and  a  committee-man, 
who  was  forced  to  go  along  with  them,  naked  and  barefoot,  on 
the  icy  ground,  in  a  freezing  night,  he,  for  the  professed  purpose 
of  retaliation,  sent  Captain  Buchanan,  in  a  whale-boat,  to  burn 
the  house  of  General  Oliver  Delancey  on  York  Island.  Buchanan 
•effected  his  object,  and  by  this  expedition  put  a  period,  for  the 
present,  to  that  unmeaning  and  wanton  species  of  destruction. 
While  General  Putnam  quartered  at  New-Rochel,  a  scouting 


324  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

party,  which  had  been  sent  to  West-Farms,  below  West-Chestei>, 
surrounded  the  house  in  which  Colonel  James  Delancey  lodged, 
and,  notwithstanding  he  crept  under  the  bed  the  better  to  be  con 
cealed,  brought  him  to  Head-Quarters  before  morning.  This 
officer  was  exchanged  by  the  British  General  without  de"lay,  and 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  cow-boys,  a  licentious  corps  of  irregu 
lars,  who,  in  the  sequel,  committed  unheard-of  depredations  and 
excesses. 

It  was  distressing  to  see  so  beautiful  a  part  of  the  country  so 
barbarously  wasted,   and  often  to  witness  some  peculiar  scene  of 
female  misery :    for  most  of  the  female    inhabitants  had  been 
obliged  to  fly  within  the  lines  possessed  by  one  army  cr  the  other. 
Near  our  quarters  was  an  affecting  instance  of  human  vicissi 
tude.     Mr.  William  Sutton,  of  Maroneck,  an  inoffensive  man,  a 
merchant  by  profession,  who  lived  in  a  decent  fashion,  and  whose 
family  had  as  happy  prospects  as  almost  any  in  the  country,  upon 
some  imputation  of  toryism,  went  to  the  enemy.     His  wife,  op 
pressed  with  grief  in  the  disagreeable  state  of  dereliction,  did  not 
long  survive.     Betsey  Sutton,  their  eldest  daughter,  was  a  modest 
and  lovely  young  woman,  of  about  fifteen  years  old,  when,  at  the 
death  of  her  mother,  the  care  of  five  or  six  younger  children  de 
volved  upon  her.     She  was  discreet  and  provident  beyond   her 
years ;  but  when  AVC  saw  her,  she  looked  to  be  feeble  in  health — 
broken  in  spirit — wan,  melancholy,  and  dejected.     She  said  '•  that 
"  their  last  cow,  which  furnished  milk  for  the  children,  had  lately 
"  been  taken  away — that  they  had  frequently  been  plundered  of 
*'  their  wearing  apparel  and  furniture,  she  believed  by  both  par- 
"  ties — that  they  hud  little  more  to  lose-— and  that  she  knew  not 
*'  where  to  procure  bread  for  the  dear  little  ones,  who  had  no 
^  father  to  provide  for  them" — no  mother — she  was  going  to  have 
said — but  a  torrent  of  tears  choaked  articulation.     In  coming  to 
that  part  of  the  country  again,  after  some  campaigns  had  elapsed, 
I  found  the  habitation  desolate,  and  the  garden  overgrown  with 
weeds.     Upon  inquiry,  I  learnt,  that  as  soon  as  we  left  the  place, 
some  ruffians  broke  into  the  house  while  she  lay  in  bed,  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  night;  and  that,  having  been  terrified  by  their 
rudeness,  she  ran,  half-naked,  into  a  neighbouring  swamp,  where 
she  continued  until  "the  morning — there  the  poor  girl  caught  a 
violent  cold,   Avhich  ended  in  a  consumption.     It  finished  a  life 
without  a  spot-~and  a  career  of  sufferings  commenced  and  con 
tinued  without  a  fault. 

Sights  of  wretchedness  always  touched  with  commiseration  the 
feelings  of  General  Putnam,  and  prompted  his  generous  soul  to 
succour  the  afflicted.  But  the  indulgence  which  he  showed,  when- 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  325 

ever  it  did  not  militate  against  his  duty,  towards  the  deserted  and 
suffering  families  of  the  tories  in  the  State  of  New-York,  was  the 
cruse  of  his  becoming  unpopular  with  no  inconsiderable  class  of 
people  in  that  State.  On  the  other  side,  he  had  conceived  an 
unconquerable  aversion  to  many  of  the  persons  who  were  entrusted 
with  the  disposal  of  tory-property,  because  he  believed  them  to 
have  been  guilty  of  peculations  and  other  infamous  practices. 
But  although  the  enmity  between  him  and  the  sequestrators  was 
acrimonious  as  mutual,  yet  he  lived  in  habits  of  amity  with  the 
most  respectable  characters  in  public  departments,  as  well  as  in 
private  life. 

His  character  was  also  respected  by  the  enemy.  He  had  been 
acquainted  with  many  of  the  principal  officers  in  a  former  war. 
As  flags  frequently  passed  between  the  out-posts,  during  his  con 
tinuance  on  the  lines,  it  was  a  common  practice  to  forward  news 
papers  by  them;  and  as  those  printed  by  Rivington,  the  royal 
printer  in  New- York,  were  infamous  for  the  falsehoods  with  which 
they  abounded,  General  Putnam  once  sent  a  packet  to  his  old  friend 
General  Robertson,  with  this  billet:  "  Majoi'-General  Putnam 
"  presents  his  compliments  to  Major-General  Robertson,  and 
"  sends  him  some  American  newspapers  for  his  perusal — when 
"  General  Robertson  shall  have  done  with  them,  it  is  requested 
"  they  be  given  to  Rivingtcn,  in  order  that  he  may  print  some 
*  truth." 

Late  in  the  year  we  left  the  lines  and  repaired  to  the  Highlands ; 
for  upon  the  loss  of  Fort  Montgomery,  the  Commander  in  Chief 
determined  to  build  another  fortification  for  the  defence  of  the 
river.  His  Excellency,  accordingly,  wrote  to  General  Putnam 
to  fix  upon  the  spot.  After  reconnoitering  all  the  different  places 
proposed,  and  revolving  in  his  own  mind  their  relative  advantages 
for  offence  on  the  water  and  defence  on  the  land,  he  fixed  upon 
WEST-POINT.  It  is  no  vulgar  praise  to  say,  that  to  him  belongs 
the  glory  of  having  chosen  this  rock  of  our  military  salvation. 
The  position  for  water -batteries,  which  might  sweep  the  channel 
where  the  river  formed  a  right  angle,  made  it  the  most  proper  of 
any  for  commanding  the  navigation;  while  the  rocky  ridges  that 
rose  in  awful  sublimity  behind  each  other,  rendered  it  impregna 
ble,  and  even  incapable  of  being  invested  by  less  than  twenty 
thousand  men.  The  British,  who  considered  this  post  as  a  sort 
of  American  Gibraltar,  never  attempted  it  but  by  the  treachery 
of  an  American  officer.  All  the  world  knows  that  this  project 
failed,  and  that  West-Point  continues  to  be  the  receptacle  of  every 
thing  valuable  in  military  preparations  to  the  present  day. 

In  the  month  of  January,  1778,  when  a  snow,  two  feet  deep,  lay 


326  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

on  the  earth,  General  Parsons's  brigade  went  to  West-Point  and 
broke  ground.  Want  of  covering  for  the  troops,  together  with 
want  of  tools  and  materials  for  the  works,  made  the  prospect 
truly  gloomy  and  discouraging.  It  was  necessary  that  means 
should  be  found,  though  our  currency  was  depreciated  and  our 
treasury  exhausted.  The  estimates  and  requisitions  of  Colonel 
la  Radiere,  the  engineer  who  laid  out  the  works,  altogether  dis- 
proportioned  to  our  circumstances,  served  only  to  put  us  in  mind 
of  our  poverty,  and,  as  it  were,  to  satirize  our  resources.  His 
petulant  behaviour  and  unaccommodating  disposition  added  fur 
ther  embarrassments.  It  was  then  that  the  patriotism  of  Governor 
Clinton  shone  in  full  lustre.  His  exertions  to  furnish  supplies  can 
never  be  too  much  commended.  His  influence,  arising  from  his 
popularity,  was  unlimited :  yet  he  hesitated  not  to  put  all  his  po-, 
pularity  at  risk,  whenever  the  federal  interests  demanded.  Not 
withstanding  the  impediments  that  opposed  our  progress,  with  his 
aid,  before  the  opening  of  the  campaign,  the  works  were  in 
great  forwardness. 

According  to  a  resolution  of  Congress,  an  inquiry  was  to  be 
made  into  the  causes  of  military  disasters.  Major-General 
M'Dougall,  Brigadier-General  Huntington,  and  Colonel  Wiggles- 
worth  composed  the  Court  of  Inquiry  on  the  loss  of  Fort  Mont 
gomery.  Upon  full  knowledge  and  mature  deliberation  of  facts 
on  the  spot,  they  reported  the  loss  to  have  been  occasioned  by 
want  of  men,  and  not  by  any  fault  in  the  Commanders. 

General  Putnam,  who  during  the  investigation  was  relieved 
from  duty,  as  soon  as  Congress  had  approved  the  report,  took 
command  of  the  right  wing  of  the  grand  army,  under  the  orders 
of  the  General  in  Chief.  This  was  just  after  the  battle  of  Mon- 
mouth,  when  the  three  armies  which  had  last  year  acted  sepa 
rately,  joined  at  the  White -Plains.  Our  effective  force,  in  one 
camp,  was  at  no  other  time  so  respectable  as  at  this  juncture.  The 
army  consisted  of  sixty  regular  regiments  of  foot,  formed  into  fif 
teen  brigades,  four  battalions  of  artillery,  four  regiments  of  horse, 
and  several  corps  of  State  troops.  But  as  the  enemy  kept  close 
within  their  lines  on  York  Island,  nothing  could  be  attempted. 
Towards  the  end  of  autumn  we  broke  up  the  camp,  and  went 
first  to  Fredericksburgh,  and  thence  to  winter-quarters. 

In  order  to  cover  the  country  adjoining  to  the  Sound,  and  to 
support  the  garrison  of  West-Point,  in  case  of  an  attack,  Major- 
General  Putnam  was  stationed  for  the  winter  at  Reading,  in  Con 
necticut.  He  had  under  his  orders  the  brigade  of  New-Hamp 
shire,  the  two  brigades  of  Connecticut,  the  corps  of  infantry  com 
manded  by  Hazen,  and  that  of  cavalry  by  Sheldon. 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  327 

The  troops,  who  had  been  badly  fed,  badly  cloathed,  and  worse 
paid,  by  brooding  over  their  grievances  in  the  leisure  and  inacti 
vity  of  winter-quarters,  began  to  think  them  intolerable.  The 
Connecticut  brigades  formed  the  design  of  marching  to  Hartford, 
•where  the  General  Assembly  was  then  in  session,  and  of  demand 
ing  redress  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  Word  having  been 
brought  to  General  Putnam,  that  the  second  brigade  was  under 
arms  for  this  purpose,  he  mounted  his  horse,  gallopped  to  the  can 
tonment,  ami  thus  addressed  them:  "  My  brave  lads,  whither  are 
"  you  going  ?  Do  you  intend  to  desert  your  officers,  and  to  invite 
"  the  enemy  to  follow  you  into  the  country  ?  Whose  cause  have 
"  you  been  fighting  and  suffering  so  long  in — is  it  not  your  own  ? 
"  Have  you  no  property,  no  parents,  wives  or  children  ?  You 
"  have  behaved  like  men  so  far — all  the  world  is  full  of  your 
"  praises — and  posterity  will  stand  astonished  at  your  deeds:  but 
*'  not  if  you  spoil  all  at  last.  Don't  you  consider  how  much  the 
"  country  is  distressed  by  the  war,  and  that  your  officers  have  not 
"  been  any  better  paid  than  yourselves?  But  we  all  expect  Ijetter 
"  times,  and  that  the  country  will  do  us  ample  justice.  Let  us  all 
"  stand  by  one  another,  then,  and  fight  it  out  like  brave  soldiers. 
"  Think  what  a  shame  it  would  be  for  Connecticut  men  to  run 
"  away  from  their  officers."  After  the  several  regiments  had  re 
ceived  the  General  as  he  rode  along  the  line  with  drums  beating, 
and  presented  arms,  the  sergeants  Avho  had  then  the  command, 
brought  the  men  to  an  order^  in  which  position  they  continued 
while  he  was  speaking.  When  he  had  done,  he  directed  the  act 
ing  Major  of  Brigade  to  give  the  word  for  them  to  shoulder,  march 
to  their  regimental  parades,  and  lodge  arms;  all  which  they  ex 
ecuted  with  promptitude  and  apparent  good  humour.  One  soldier 
only,  who  had  been  the  most  active,  was  confined  in  the  quarter- 
guard;  from  whence,  at  night,  he  attempted  to  make  his  escape. 
But  the  sentinel,  who  had  also  been  in  the  mutiny,  shot  him  dead 
on  the  spot,  and  thus  the  affair  subsided. 

Abouc  the  middle  of  winter,  while  General  Putnam  was  on  a 
visit  to  his  out-post  at  Horse-Neck,  he  found  Governor  Tryon  ad 
vancing  upon  that  town  with  a  corps  of  fifteen  hundred  men.  To 
oppose  these  General  Putnam  had  only  a  picquet  of  one  hundred 
and  fifty  men,  and  two  iron  field-pieces,  without  horses  or  drag- 
ropes.  He,  however,  planted  his  cannon  on  the  high  ground,  by 
the  meeting-house,  and  retarded  their  approach  by  firing  several 
times,  until,  perceiving  the  horse  (supported  by  the  infantry)  about 
to  charge,  he  ordered  the  picquet  to  provide  for  their  safety,  by  re 
tiring  to  a  swamp  inaccessible  to  horse,  and  secured  his  own,  by 
plunging  down  the  steep  precipice  at  the  church  upon  a  full  trot. 


328  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM. 

This  precipice  is  so  steep,  where  he  descended,  as  to  have  artifi 
cial  stairs,  composed  of  nearly  one  hundred  stone  steps,  for  the  ac 
commodation  of  foot  passengers.  There  the  Dragoons,  -who  were 
but  a  sword's  length  from  him,  stopped  short;  for  the  declivity 
•was  so  abrupt,  that  they  ventured  not  to  follow ;  and.  before  they 
could  gain  the  valley,  by  going  round  the  brow  of  the  hill  in  the  or 
dinary  road,  he  was  far  enough  beyond  their  reach.  He  conti 
nued  his  route,  unmolested,  to  Stanford ;  from  whence,  having 
strengthened  his  picquet  by  the  junction  of  some  misitia,  he  came 
back  again,  and,  in  turn,  pursued  Governor  Tryon  in  his  retreat* 
As  he  rode  down  ihe  precipice,  one  bail,  of  the  many  fired  at  him, 
went  through  his  beaver :  But  Governor  Tryon,  by  way  of  com 
pensation  for  spoiling  his  hat,  sent  him,  soon  afterwards,  as  a  pre 
sent,  a  complete  suit  of  clothes. 

In  the  campaign  of  1779,  which  terminated  the  career  of  Ge 
neral  Putnam's  services,  he  commanded  the  Maryland  line,  posted 
at  Butter-milk  falls,  about  two  miles  be'ovv  West-Point.  He  was 
happy  in  possessing  the  friendship  of  the  officers  of  that  line,  and 
in  living  on  terms  of  hospitality  with  them.  Indeed,  there  was 
no  family  in  the  army  that  lived  better  than  his  own.  The  Ge 
neral,  his  second  son  Major  Daniel  Putnam,  and  the  writer  of 
these  memoirs,  composed  that  family.  This  campaign,  principally 
spent  in  strengthening  the  works  of  West-Point,  was  only  signal 
ised  for  the  storm  of  Stony-Point  by  the  light-infantry  under  the 
conduct  of  General  Wayne,  and  the  surprise  of  the  post  of 
Powles-Hook  by  the  corps  under  the  command  of  Colonel  Henry 
Lee.  When  the  army  quitted  the  field,  and  marched  to  Morris- 
Town,  into  winter-quarters,  General  Putnam's  family  went  into 
Connecticut  for  a  few  weeks.  In  December  the  General  began 
his  journey  to  Morris-Town.  Upon  the  road  between  Pomfret 
and  Hartford  he  felt  an  unusual  torpor  slowly  pervading  his  right 
hand  and  foot.  This  heaviness  crept  gradually  on,  and  until  it 
had  deprived  him  of  the  use  of  his  limbs  on  that  side,  in  a  consi 
derable  degree,  before  he  reached  the  house  of  his  friend  Colo 
nel  Wadsworth.  Still  he  was  unwilling  to  consider  his  disorder 
of  the  paralytic  kind,  and  endeavoured  to  shake  it  off  by  exer 
tion.  Having  found  that  impossible,  a  temporary  dejection,  dis 
guised,  however,  under  a  veil  of  assumed  cheerfulness,  succeeded. 
But  reason,  philosophy,  and  religion,  soon  reconciled  him  to  his 
fate.  In  that  situation  he  has  constantly  remained,  favoured  with 
such  a  portion  of  bodily  activity  as  enables  him  to  wa]k  and  to 
ride  modei'ately;  and  retaining,  unimpaired,  his  relish  for  enjoy 
ment,  his  love  of  pleasantry,  his  strength  of  memory,  and  all  the 
faculties  of  his  mind.  As  a  proof  that  the  powers  of  memory 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM.  329 

are  not  weakened,  it  qught  to  be  observed,  that  he  has  lately  re 
peated,  from  recollection,  all  the  adventures  of  his  life,  "which 
are  here  recorded,  and  which  had  formerly  been  communicated 
to  the  compiler  in  detached  conversations. 

In  patient,  yet  fearless  expectation  of  the  approach  of  THI? 
KING  OF  TERRORS,  whom  he  hath  full  often  faced  in  the  field  of 
blood,  the  Christian  hero  now  enjoys,  in  domestic  retirement,  the 
fruit  of  his  early  industry.  Having  in  youth  provided  a  compe 
tent  subsistence  for  old  age,  he  was  secured  from  the  danger  of 
penury  and  distress,  to  Which  so  many  officers  and  soldiers,  worn 
out  in  the  public  service,  have  been  reduced.  To  illustrate  his 
merits  the  more  fully,  this  Essay  will  be  concluded  with  a  copy 
of  the  last  letter  written  to  him,  by  General  Washington,  in  his 
military  character. 

"  Head-Quarters,  2d  June,  1783. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Your  favour  of  the  20th  of  May  I  received  with  much  plea- 
"  sure.  For  I  can  assure  you  that  among  the  many  worthy  and 
"  meritorious  officers  with  whom  I  have  had  the  happiness  to  be 
"  connected  in  service  through  the  course  of  this  war,  and  fi-om 
"  whose  cheerful  assistance  in  the  various  and  trying  vicissitudes 
11  of  a  complicated  contest,  the  name  of  a  PUTNAM  is  not  forgot* 
"  ten;  nor  will  be  but  with  that  stroke  of  time  which  shall  obli- 
"  terate  from  my  mind  the  remembrance  of  all  those  toils  and  fa- 
"  tigues  through  which  we  have  struggled  for  the  preservation 
"  and  establishment  of  the  Rights,  Liberties,  and  Independence 
"  of  our  Country, 

"  Your  congratulations  on  the  happy  prospects  of  peace  and 
"  independent  security,  with  their  attendant  blessings  to  the 
"  UNITED  STATES,  I  receive  with  great  satisfaction;  and  beg 
"  that  you  will  accept  a  return  of  my  gratulations  to  you  on  this 
"  auspicious  event — an  event,  in  which,  great  as  it  is  in  itself,  and 
"  glorious  as  it  will  probably  be  in  its  consequences,  you  have  a 
"  right  to  participate  largely,  from  the  distinguished  part  you 
"  have  contributed  towards  its  attainment. 

"  But  while  I  contemplate  the  greatness  of  the  object  for  which 
"  we  have  contended,  and  felicitate  you  on  the  happy  issue  of  our 
"  toils  and  labours,  which  have  terminated  with  such  general 
"  satisfaction,  I  lament  that  you  should  feel  the  ungrateful  returns 
"  of  a  country,  in  whose  service  you  have  exhausted  your  bodily 
"  strength,  and  expended  the  vigour  of  a  youthful  constitution, 
"  I  wish,  however,  that  your  expectations  of  returning  liberality 
"  may  be  verified.  I  have  a  hope  they  may' — but  should  they 
"  not,  your  case  will  not  be  a  singular  one.  Ingratitude  has  been 

2U 


330  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  PUTNAM, 

«' experienced  in  all  ages,  and  REPUBLICS,  in  particular,  have 
"  ever  been  famed  for  the  exercise  of  that  unnatural  and  SOR- 

'*  DID  VICE. 

"  The  SECRETARY  AT  WAR,  who  is  now  here,  informs  me 
"  that  you  have  ever  been  considered  as  entitled  to  full  pay  since 
"  your  absence  from  the  field,  and  that  you  will  still  be  considered 
"  in  that  light  until  the  close  of  the  war ;  at  which  period  you  will 
"  be  equally  entitled  to  the  same  emoluments  of  half-pay  or  com- 
"  mutation  as  other  officers  of  your  rank.  The  same  opinion  is 
"  also  given  by  the  Pay-Master-General,  who  is  now  with  the 
*'  army,  impowered  by  Mr.  Morris  for  the  settlement  of  all  their 
"  accounts,  and  who  will  attend  to  year's  whenever  you  shall  think 
"  proper  to  send  on  for  the  purpose,  which  k  will  probably  be 
*'  best  for  you  to  do  in  a  short  time. 

"  I  anticipate,  with  pleasure,  the  day,  and  that,  I  trust,  not 
"  far  off,  when  I  shall  quit  the  busy  scenes  of  a  military  employ- 
"  ment,  and  retire  to  the  more  tranquil  walks  of  domestic  life. 
u  In  that,  or  whatever  other  situation  Providence  may  dispose  of 
"  my  future  days,  THE  REMEMBRANCE  OF  THE  MANY  FRIEND- 

"  SHIPS  AND  CONNECTIONS  I  HAVE  HAD  THE  HAPPINESS  TO 
«  CONTRACT  WITH  THE  GENTLEMEN  OF  THE  ARMY,  WILL 
"  BE  ONE  OF  MY  MOST  GRATEFUL  REFLECTIONS.  Under  this 

"  contemplation,  and  impressed  ivith  tJte  sentiments  of  benevo- 
il  lence  and  regard,  I  commend  you,  my  dear  Sir,  my  other 
"friends,  and  with  them,  the  interests  and  happiness  of  our  dear 
"  country^  to  the  KEEPING  AND  PROTECTION  OF  ALMIGHTY 
«  GOD, 

*'  I  have  the  honour  to  be,  Sec. 

«  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 
"  To  the  Honourable  Major-Gcneral  PufifAM." 

GENERAL  PUTNAM  died  the  29th  of  May,  1790. 


• 

AN 

ORATION 

ON  THZ 

POLITICAL  SITUATION 


UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 

IN  THE  YEAR  1789. 

Pronounced  before  the  State  Society  of  the  Cincinnati  of  Connecticut, 

at  New-Haven,  in  Celebration  of  the  thirteenth 

Anniversary  of  Independence. 

PUBLISHED  AT  THE  REQUEST  OjF  THE  SOCIETf. 


AN 

ORATION,    &c. 


OlNCE  the  last  Anniversary  of  Independence,  my  dear  fellow- 
citizens,  we  have  been  witnesses  to  the  complete  establishment  of 
a  new  general  government.  On  an  event  of  such  magnitude,  the 
voice  of  congratulation  has  already  been  heard  from  one  extreme 
of  our  land  to  the  other.  But  as  our  felicitations  can  never  be 
more  grateful  than  at  the  time  when  we  are  convened  to  com. 
memorate  the  birth  of  our  nation,  it  may,  perhaps,  be  expected, 
from  the  task  I  am  called  upon  to  perform  this  day,  that  I  should 
be  the  organ  for  expressing  the  part  we  bear  in  this  universal  joy. 
I  feel  a  confidence,  from  the  sensations  of  my  own  heart,  that 
every  bosom  in  this  assembly  beats  high  at  the  thought  of  our  coun 
try's  happiness.  Even  the  ardent  eyes  and  the  animated  counte 
nances  of  all  who  compose  it,  attest  how  sincerely  they  rejoice  in 
the  prospect  before  them.  But,  in  the  midst  of  our  rejoicings, 
we  ought  to  remember,  that  no  occasion  can  be  more  suitable  than 
the  present  for  employing  our  reflections  on  our  political  situa 
tion.  I  will  therefore  hope  for  your  indulgence,  while  I  make  a 
few  observations  on  the  American  revolution;  on  the  necessity 
which  afterwards  appeared  for  establishing  a  general  government 
of  more  energy  than  the  original  confederation ;  on  the  nature  of 
the  government  which  has  lately  been  carried  into  effect ;  and  on 
the  national  prosperity  which  we  may  reasonably  expect  will  re 
sult  from  the  faithful  administration  of  that  government. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  late  war  with  Great-Britain,  when 
we  thought  ourselves  justifiable  in  resisting  to  blood,  it  was  known 
to  those  best  acquainted  with  the  different  conditions  of  the  com 
batants,  and  the  probable  cost  of  the  prize  in  dispute,  that  the 
expense,  in  comparison  with  our  circumstances  as  colonists,  must 
be  enormous — the  struggle  protracted,  doubtful,  and  severe.  It 
was  known  that  the  resources  of  Britain  were  almost  inexhausti 
ble,  that  her  fleets  covered  the  ocean,  and  that  her  troops  had 
harvested  laurels  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe.  Not  then  organ 
ized  as  a  nation,  or  known  as  a  people  on  the  earth,  we  had  no 


354  ON  THE  POLITICAL  SITUATION 

preparations.  Money,  the  nerve  of  war,  was  wanting.  The 
sword  was  to  be  forged  on  the  anvil  of  necessity ;  the  treasury  to 
be  created  from  nothing.  If  we  had  a  resource,  unknown  to  our 
enemy,  it  was  in  the  unconquerable  resolution  of  our  citizens,  the 
conscious  rectitude  of  our  cause,  and  a  confident  trust  that  we 
should  not  be  forsaken  by  heaven.  The  people  willingly  offered 
themselves  to  the  battle;  but  the  means  of  arming,  clothing  and 
subsisting  them,  as  well  as  of  providing  the  general  implements 
of  hostility,  were  only  to  be  found  in  anticipations  of  our  future 
wealth.  Bills  of  credit  were  emitted ;  monies  borrowed  for  the 
most  pressing  emergencies ;  and  our  men  in  the  field  unpaid  for 
their  services.  At  this  time  the  magnanimous  monarch  of  France 
reached  a  fostering  hand  to  assist  in  rescuing  us  from  ruin.  In 
this  manner,  peace,  attended  with  every  circumstance  that  could 
gratify  our  reasonable  desires,  was  at  length  obtained  ;  but  a  load 
of  debt  was  left  upon  us.  The  fluctuation  of  our  paper  currency, 
and  the  consequent  frequency  of  speculation  in  it,  had,  in  too 
many  instances,  occasioned  vague  ideas  of  property,  produced 
licentious  appetites,  and  corrupted  the  morals  of  men.  To  these 
immediate  consequences  of  a  fluctuating  medium  of  commerce, 
may  be  joined  a  tide  of  circumstances,  that  flowed  together  from 
sources  mostly  opened  during  and  after  the  war.  The  ravage  of 
farms,  the  conflagration  of  towns,  the  diminution  of  agriculture, 
the  extinction  of  trade,  the  embarrassment  of  some  who  were  in 
debted  to  British  merchants  before  the  war,  the  privation  in  all, 
during  its  continuance,  of  many  conveniences  of  life,  the  subse 
quent  influx  of  merchandize,  the  tempting  facility  of  procuring  it 
•without  present  payment,  the  growing  taste  for  extravagance, 
and  the  habit,  too  soon  acquired,  of  deferring  or  eluding  satis 
faction  for  just  obligations,  now  began  to  overwhelm  the  continent 
with  private  distress,  bankruptcy,  and  breach  of  faith. 

From  this  period  also  our  public  affairs  were  seen  to,  decline. 
I  will  ask  your  attention  for  a  moment,  while  I  speak  of  the  un 
satisfactory  part  of  our  old  confederation,  and  the  necessity  that 
became  apparant  for  instituting  a  different  form  of  government. 
It  is  not  a  subject  of  wonder  that  the  first  project  of  a  federal  go- 
•vernment,  formed  on  the  defective  models  of  some  foreign  confe 
deracies,  in  the  midst  of  a  war,  before  we  had  much  experience 
in  political  affairs,  and  while,  from  the  concurrence  of  external 
danger,  and  the  patriotic  impulse  of  the  moment,  implicit  obedi 
ence  was  yielded  to  the  requisitions  of  an  advisory  council,  should 
have  been  imperfect.  Our  astonishment  ought  rather  to  be  ex 
cited,  that,  feeble  and  inefficient  as  the  government  was,  it  not 
only  carried  us  in  safety  through  the  war,  but  kept  us  from  seve- 


OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  IN  1789".  33* 

ranee  until  another  could  be  substituted.  By  the  original  confede-- 
ration,  the  right  to  make  demands  on  the  several  States  for  such 
pecuniary  supplies  as  might  be  necessary  for  defraying  the  ex 
penses  of  the  war,  and  for  supporting  the  government  of  the 
union,  together  with  some  other  specific  prerogatives  of  sove 
reignty,  were  committed  to  Congress.  But  Congress,  constituted 
in  most  respects  as  a  diplomatic  body,  possessed  no  power  of  car 
rying  into  execution  a  single  resolution,  however  urgeatly  dictated 
by  prudence,  policy  or  justice.  The  individual  communities, 
knowing  there  existed  no  power  of  coercion,  treated  with  neglect, 
•whenever  it  suited  their  convenience  or  caprice,  the  most  salutary- 
measures  and  the  most  indispensable  requisitions  of  Congress^ 
Experience  taught  us,  that  the  powers  given  by  the  members  of 
the  union  to  their  federal  head,  were  not  sufficient  to  enable  it  to 
accomplish  the'  purposes  for  which  the  body  politic  had  been 
formed.  We  now  touched  on  thtfhour  of  humiliation.  The  con 
federacy  was  found  to  be  a  government  in  name  rather  than  in 
reality.  Hence  the  interest  due  on  our  public  debts  remained  un 
paid.  Hence  many  a  veteran  was  reduced  to  unmerited  distress. 
Hence  we  were  continually  liable,  on  our  own-  part,  to  have  infrac 
tions  made  upon  treaties,  which  were  equally  honourable,  advan 
tageous  and  saeved.  Hence  we  were  in  danger  of  having  our 
faith  become  as  proverbial  as  that  of  Carthage,  and  our  name  the 
scorn  of  the  earth.  Hence  there  was  a  nation,  which,  in  some 
measure,  excluded  our  vessels  from  its  ports,  burdened  our  com 
merce  with  intolerable  impositions,  introduced  its  ships  into  our 
carrying  trade,  and,  because  we  were  destitute  of  a  reta.iating 
power,  refused  to  enter  into  a  commercial  treaty  with  us.  With 
a  debt  accumulating  from  the  necessity  of  obtaining  repeated 
loans ;  with  a  credit  much  impaired  for  the  want  of  punctuality, 
and  apprehension  of  national  bankruptcy;  with  cries  for  justice 
from  the  widow,  the  fatherless,  and  the  soldier  worn  out  in  his 
country's  defence,  ascending  to  that  Being  who  hath  purer  eyes 
than  to  behold  iniquity  with  impunity,  who  is  a  God  of  vengeance 
as  well  as  a  God  of  justice— whither  could  we  turn  for  succour? 
where  could  we  fly  for  refuge  I 

The  veil  that  concealed  this  melancholy  and  afflicting  picture, 
was  at  last  withdrawn.  The,  wise  and  the  good  stood  astonished 
at  the  sight ;  none  but  the  ignorant  or  the  wicked  rested  uncon 
cerned.  Even  fearfulness  seized,  in  many  instances,  upon  those 
well-meaning  politicians  whose  security  had  been  produced  by  the 
scantiness  of  their  information,  and  the  confinement  of  their 
views  to  the  local  advantages  of  the  States  to  which  they  belonged* 
Then  it  was  that  men,  better  informed  and  more  conversant  ia 


336  ON  THE  POLITICAL  SITUATION 

civil  affairs,  began  to  dread  that  a  free,  yet  efficient  government^ 
the  object  which  animated  in  life,  and  soothed  in  death,  those  he 
roes  who  had  sealed  their  principles  with  their  blood,  must  still 
be  lost:  that  the  prospect  of  national  happiness,  which  invigo 
rated  our  arms  and  cheered  our  hearts  through  the  perilous  strug 
gle  for  independence,  must  vanish  for  ever  from  our  view :  and 
that  the  hope  of  establishing  the  empire  of  reason,  justice,  philo 
sophy,  and  religion,  throughout  the  extensive  regions  of  the  new 
world,  would  be  considered  but  the  illusion  of  a  heated  imagina 
tion.  And  what  could  be  more  mortifying  to  every  true  patriot, 
than  to  perceive  our  countrymen  ready  to  rush  headlong  on  their 
ruin— ready  to  destroy  the  asylum  which  was  just  offered  for  suf 
fering  humanity — -ready  to  Verify  the  predictions  of  our  foes,  that 
our  independence  would  prove  a  curse  to  its  votaries — and,  by 
frustrating  the  fairest  opportunity  ever  afforded  for  a  people  to 
become  great  and  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  freedom,  to  confirm 
the  detestable  doctrine,  that  mankind,  unequal  to  the  task  of  go 
verning  themselves,  were  made  for  a  state  of  slavery  ? — Thus  our 
old  confederation  seemed  passing  away.  Our  day  of  political 
probation  appeared  expiring.  The  Rcfiublic  was  about  to  assume, 
if  I  may  be  allowed  the  expression,  a  renovated  body,  prepared 
for  a  more  permanent  state  of  existence  in  bliss  or  woe.  Life 
and  death  were  in  our  option.  The  first  was  involved  in  UNION 
under  a  good  general  government — the  last  in  SEPARATION  into 
a  number  of  miserable  fragments  of  empire.  So  long  as  strength 
must  be  deemed  preferable  to  weakness,  harmony  to  confusion, 
peace  to  war,  happiness  to  misery,  and  independence  to  subjuga 
tion,  the  American  people,  who  will  always  judge  right  when 
they  shall  have  the  means  of  information,  could  not  hesitate  to 
prefer  the  former.  Nor  is  it  unworthy  of  remark,  that,  amidst 
the  variety  of  opinions  which  prevailed  respecting  the  system  of 
government  proper  to  be  adopted,  no  man  was  found  so  hardy  as 
to  outrage  the  feelings  of  his  countrymen,  by  openly  advocating 
counsels  of  disunion.  And  may  we  not,  uninfluenced  by  super 
stition,  believe  that  heaven  infused  the  idea  into  our  legislatures, 
to  convoke  a  national  assembly,  at  this  interesting  and  awful 
crisis ! 

The  result  is  so  well  known,  that  I  forbear  to  dilate  upon  it. 
Happily  the  spirit  of  accommodation,  that  influenced  the  Conven 
tion,  has  been  diffused  among  their  countrymen.  The  adoption 
of  the  government  by  so  many  communities,  distinct  in  their 
views  and  interests,  will  be  an  immortal  memorial  of  victory 
gained  by  enlightened  reason  over  brutal  force.  Can  we  contem 
plate  a  whole  people,  like  a  nation  of  philosophers,  discussing  and 


OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  IN  1789.  337 

agreeing  on  a  form  of  government :  can  we  contemplate  a  work 
so  vast  in  its  import,  and  so  wonderfully  effected — not  by  violence 
and  bloodshed,  but  by  deliberation  and  consent — without  exclaim 
ing  in  rapturous  admiration,  behold  a  new  thing  under  the  sun ! 
and  without  uttering  in  grateful  adoration,  lo,  this  is  indeed  the 
LORD'S  doing,  and  it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes! 

Without  presuming  to  trespass  on  your  patience  so  far  as  to  at 
tempt  to  analize  the  Constitution,  or  to  demonstrate  its  merits  by 
logical  deductions,  I  may,  perhaps,  be  permitted  just  to  observe, 
that  it  appears  to  be,  in  its  formation,  a  government  of  the  peo 
ple,  that  is  to  say,  a  government  in  which  all  power  is  derived 
from,  and,  at  stated  periods,  reverts  to  them — and  that,  in  its 
operation,  it  is  a  government  of  laws  made  and  executed  by  the 
fair  substitutes  of  the  people  alone.  The  election  of  the  different 
branches  of  Congress  by  the  freemen,  either  directly  or  indi 
rectly,  is  the  pivot  on  which  turns  the  first  wheel  of  government — 
a  wheel  which  communicates  motion  to  the  whole  machine:  at 
the  same  time,  the  exercise  of  this  right  of  election  seems  to  be 
so  regulated,  as  to  afford  less  opportunity  for  corruption  and  influ 
ence,  and  more  for  stability  and  volition,  than  has  usually  been  in 
cident  to  popular  governments.  Nor  could  the  members  of  Con 
gress  exempt  themselves  from  the  consequences  of  any  unjust  or 
tyrannical  acts  which  they  might  impose  upon  others:  for,  in  a 
short  time,  they  will  mingle  with  the  mass  of  the  people.  Their 
interests  must  therefore  be  the  same,  and  their  feelings  in  sym 
pathy  with  those  of  their  constituents.  Besides,  their  re-election 
must  always  depend  upon  the  good  reputation  which  they  shall 
have  maintained  in  the  judgment  of  their  fellow  citizens.  Hence 
we  may  be  induced  to  conclude,  that  this  government  is  less  ob 
noxious  to  well-founded  objections  than  most  which  have  existed 
in  the  world.  And  in  that  opinion  we  may  be  confirmed  on 
three  accounts:  First,  because  every  government  ought  to  be  pos 
sessed  of  powers  adequate  to  the  purposes  for  which  it  was  insti 
tuted  ;  secondly,  because  no  other,  or  greater  powers,  appear  to 
be  delegated  to  this  government,  than  are  essential  to  attain  the 
objects  for  which  it  was  instituted,  to  wit,  the  safety  and  happi 
ness  of  the  governed ;  and,  thirdly)  because  it  is  clear,  that  no 
government,  before  introduced  among  mankind,  ever  contained 
so  many  checks,  or  such  efficacious  restraints,  to  prevent  it  from 
degenerating  into  any  species  of  oppression.  It  is  unnecessary  to 
be  insisted  upon,  because  it  is  well  understood,  that  the  impotence 
of  Congress  under  the  former  confederation,  and  the  inexpediency 
of  trusting  sufficiently  ample  prerogatives  to  a  single  body,  gave 
birth  to  the  different  branches  which  constitute  the  present  gene- 

2X 


338  ON  THE  POLITICAL  SITUATION 

ral  government.  Convinced  that  the  balances,  arising  from  the 
distribution  of  the  Legislative,  Executive,  and  Judicial  powers  in 
this  government,  are  the  best  which  have  hitherto  been  insti 
tuted,  I  presume  not  to  assert  that  better  may  not  still  be  devised. 
To  avoid  a  wanton  levity  of  innovation  on  the  one  hand,  and  an  un 
alterable  practice  of  error  on  the  other,  are  points  in  policy  equally 
desirable,  though,  I  believe,  a  constitutional  power  to  effect  them 
never  before  existed.  Whether  the  mode  which  is  pointed  out  in 
this  Constitution,  for  procuring  amendments,  be  not  the  wisest, 
and  apparently  the  happiest  expedient  that  ever  has  been  sug 
gested  by  human  prudence,  I  leave  every  unprejudiced  mind  to  de 
termine.  If,  in  the  mean  time,  it  was  a  given  point,  that  the  late 
federal  government  could  not  have  existed  much  longer;  if,  with 
out  some  speedy  remedy,  a  dissolution  of  the  union  must  have  en 
sued  ;  if,  without  adhering  to  the  union,  we  could  have  no  secu 
rity  against  falling  a  prey  to  foreign  invasion  or  domestic  usurpa 
tion  ;  if  upon  our  adherence  to  the  union  depended  the  protection 
of  our  property  at  home,  and  the  profits  of  our  commerce  abroad ; 
if  the  almost  unanimous  agreement  of  the  federal  Convention 
upon  this  plan  of  government,  under  the  local  prejudices  and  va 
rious  expectations  of  the  States,  could  be  deemed  little  short  of 
miraculous ;  if  there  was  an  easy  provision  made  for  the  correc 
tion  of  such  errors  as  should  be  found,  from  the  imbecility  of  hu 
man  nature,  to  have  insinuated  themselves  into  it;  and  if,  upon  a 
.rejection  previous  to  amendments,  there  did  not  appear  any  pro 
bability  that  the  same  system  could  be  soon  enough  amended,  or 
any  other  substituted  in  its  place  by  another  Convention — surely 
no  State*  ought  to  have  rejected  it  without  pondering  well  on  the 
consequences :  because,  anarchy  and  civil  war,  with  an  eventual 
government  of  chance  or  force,  appeared  but  too  probable  conse 
quences  of  a  general  rejection* 

Under  such  circumstances  it  was  doubtless  the  part  of  wisdom. 
to  adopt  the  Constitution.  I  pretend  to  no  unusual  foresight  into 
futurity,  and  therefore  cannot  undertake  to  decide  what  may  be 
its  ultimate  fate.  If  a  promised  good  should  terminate  in  an  un 
expected  evil,  it  would  not  be  a  solitary  example  of  disappoint 
ment.  If  the  blessings  of  heaven,  showered  thick  around  us,  should 
be  spilled  on  the  ground,  or  converted  to  curses  through  the  fault 
of  those  for  whose  use  they  were  proffered,  it  would  not  be  the 
first  instance  of  folly  or  perverseness  in  short-sighted  mortals. 
The  blessed  religion,  revealed  in  the  word  of  God,  will  remain 


*  At  this  time,  the  States  of  North-Carolina  and  Rhode-Island  had  not  acceded  ta  the 
general  jovsrr.ment. 


OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  IN  1X89.  339 

an  eternal  and  awful  monument  to  prove,  that  the  best  institutions 
may  be  abused  by  human  depravity;  and  that  they  may  even,  in 
some  instances,  be  made  subservient  to  the  vilest  of  purposes. 
Should,  hereafter,  those  who  are  intrusted  with  the  management 
of  this  government,  incited  by  the  lust  of  domination,  and  prompted 
by  the  supineness  or  venality  of  their  constituents,  break  down  the 
barriers  of  this  Constitution,  and  trample  on  the  prostrated  rights 
of  humanity,  it  will  only  serve  to  show  that  no  compact  among 
men,  however  provident  in  its  construction,  and  sacred  in  its  ratifi 
cation,  can  be  pronounced  everlasting  and  inviolable ;  and,  if  I  may 
so  express  myself,  that  no  wall  of  words,  that  no  mound  of  parch 
ment,  can  be  so  formed  as  to  stand  against  the  sweeping  torrent 
of  boundless  ambition  on  the  one  side,  aided  by  the  sapping  cur 
rent  of  corrupted  morals  on  the  other.  But  until  the  people  of 
America  shall  have  lost  all  virtue ;  until  they  shall  have  become 
totally  insensible  to  the  differences  between  liberty  and  slavery ; 
until  they  shall  have  been  reduced  to  such  poverty  of  spirit  as  to 
be  willing  to  sell  that  pre-eminent  blessing  of  rational  beings,  the 
birth-right  of  freedom  ;  in  short,  until  they  shall  have  been  found 
incapable  of  governing  themselves,  and  ripe  for  a  master,  these 
consequences,  I  should  fondly  hope,  can  never  arrive. 

I  proceed  now,  in  the  order  proposed,  to  treat  of  the  head  that 
was  reserved  for  the  conclusion  of  this  discourse:  I  mean  the 
national  prosperity  which  we  may  reasonably  expect  will  result 
from  the  faithful  administration  of  this  government.  My  chief 
design  in  mentioning  a  few  circumstances  eminently  calculated  to 
promote  our  happiness  as  a  people,  is  to  increase  a  disposition  to 
make  the  best  possible  use  of  these  circumstances.  Can  there  be 
any  pursuit  more  consonant  to  the  dictates  of  reason  and  nature, 
than  that  whose  object  is  the  promotion  of  the  happiness  of  our 
country?  To  embrace  this  object  in  its  utmost  limit,  our  imagina 
tions  must  expand  with  the  dimensions  of  a  continent,  and  extend 
with  the  revolutions  of  futurity. 

The  preliminary  observation,  that  a  free  government  ought  to 
be  founded  on  the  information  and  morals  of  the  people,  will  here 
find  its  proper  place.  Happily  our  citizens  are  remarkably  in 
structed  by  education,  docile  to  duty,  and  ingenious  for  making 
improvements.  More  knowledge  is,  perhaps,  at  this  moment 
diffused  among  them,  than  among  any  other  people  under  hea 
ven.  The  conduct  and  issue  of  the  late  war  may  be  a  criterion 
to  decide,  whether  they  are  destitute  of  wisdom  in  the  cabinet, 
or  fortitude  in  the  field.  For  investigation  of  the  rights  of  man, 
for  ingenuity  in  applying  principles  already  discovered  to  works 
of  mechanism,  for  inventions  in  useful  arts,  and  for  researches  i» 


340  ON  THE  POLITICAL  SITUATION 

several  branches  of  philosophy,  few  have  gone  before  them* 
Even  for  efforts  of  genius,  in  some  of  the  finer  arts,  they  are 
thought,  by  the  best  judges,  scarcely  to  have  been  excelled  in  the 
present  age.  The  world  has  applauded  their  public  writings,  for 
the  good  sense  and  manly  diction  by  which  they  are  distinguished. 
Yet  it  is  not  for  us,  who  claim  no  more  than  to  be  upon  a  level 
with  our  fellow-men,  to  encourage  one  another  in  entertaining  too 
high  an  opinion  of  ourselves.  It  is  enough  that  we  do  not  feel  a 
degrading  consciousness  of  belonging  to  that  infei'ior  class  of  mor 
tals,  in  which  some  of  the  philosophers  of  Europe  have  had  the 
presumption  to  place  us.  On  the  contrary,  peculiar  fields  of  na 
ture  and  contemplation  are  peculiarly  favourable  to  the  expansion 
of  the  human  powers.  If  we  possess  any  grandeur  of  soul,  any 
penetration  of  thought,  any  combination  for  project,  the  great 
scenes  of  nature  with  which  we  are  surrounded,  and  the  great 
political  drama  in  which  we  are  required  to  take  a  part,  will  call 
them  into  action.  When  we  reflect  upon  our  relative  situation, 
we  cannot  consider  ourselves  as  members  of  a  petty  community, 
or  as  beings  acting  for  a  fleeting  moment.  We  are  not,  like  many 
of  the  European  States,  limited  to  our  present  numbers.  Though 
it  should  be  the  primary  object  of  our  rulers  to  promote  the  im 
mediate  felicity  of  a  nation,  as  singular  in  its  origin  as  new  to  po 
litical  life ;  yet  they  cannot  forget,  that  the  happiness  of  countless 
millions,  who  are  to  draw  their  first  breath  in  America,  may  de 
pend,  in  a  great  degree,  on  the  discipline,  institutions,  and  ex 
amples  of  this  generation.  For  certain  it  is,  the  population  of 
our  country  must  increase  almost  beyond  the  power  of  calculation. 
The  stream  of  people,  wave  propelling  wave,  must,  with  the 
lapse  of  years,  roll  back  to  the  Lake  of  the  Woods.  From  our 
geographical  position,  it  is  not  for  kings  and  parliaments,  with 
their  assumed  omnipotence,  to  stop  those  waves  in  their  proper 
course.  It  is  not  for  impolitic  princes,  vainly  checking  our  com 
merce  for  momentary  gain,  to  prevent  us  from  becoming  a  com 
mercial,  a  rich,  and  a  powerful  people.  Had  they  really  a  design 
of  accomplishing  this,  it  would  be  adviseable  to  begin  with  anni 
hilating  our  natural  advantages,  with  drying  up  our  innumerable 
navigable  rivers,  and  with  sterilizing  the  uncommon  fertility  of 
our  soil. 

The  benign  effects  which,  in  all  human  probability,  will  be  pro 
duced  by  the  faithful  administration  of  this  government,  must  not 
be  entirely  passed  in  silence,  though  they  can  be  but  imperfectly  no 
ticed.  Hitherto,  for  want  of  an  efficient  government,  the  felicities 
that  were  promised  by  our  situation,  and  the  advantages  that  were 
expected  from  our  independence,  have  not  equalled  our  hopes. 


OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  IN  1789.  341 

The  harvest  of  blessings,  sown  in  fields  fattened  with  the  blood  of 
heroes,  hath  mocked  our  expectations.  But  under  the  present 
Constitution,  being  uncommonly  protected  in  our  persons  and  our 
acquisitions,  we  shall  have  uncommonly  favourable  opportunities 
for  increasing  and  enjoying  our  natural  resources.  We  have  pur 
chased  wisdom  by  experience.  Though  mankind  are  believed  to 
be  averse  to  the  coercions  of  government,  yet  no  sooner  had  our 
countrymen  felt  the  inconveniencies  arising  from  the  feebleness  of 
our  former  confederation,  than  they  seemed  willing  to  invest  a 
new  Congress  with  a  farther  portion  of  their  original  rights,  for 
the  purpose  of  being  more  fully  protected  in  the  enjoyment  of  the 
remainder.  Thus  the  dispositions  of  our  countrymen  have  been 
gradually  matured  to  receive  an  energetic  government.  Heaven 
be  thanked  that  we  have  lived  to  see  its  wonders  in  our  native  land, 
not  less  in  darkness  and  tempest  than  in  sunshine  and  serenity ! 
Now  the  clouds  that  obscured  our  political  horizon  are  bursting 
away.  The  dawn  of  happiness  begins  to  appear.  We  cannot 
refrain  from  experiencing  the  consolatory  joys  of  futurity,  in  con 
templating  the  immense  deserts,  yet  untrodden  by  the  foot  of  man, 
soon  to  become  fair  as  the  garden  of  God,  soon  to  be  animated 
by  the  activity  of  multitudes,  and  soon  to  be  made  vocal  with  the 
praises  of  the  MOST  HIGH.  Can  it  be  imagined  that  so  many 
peculiar  advantages  of  soil  and  of  climate,  for  agriculture,  for 
navigation,  and  eventually  for  manufactures,  were  lavished  in 
vain— or  that  this  vast  continent  was  not  created  and  reserved  so 
long  undiscovered,  as  a  theatre  for  those  glorious  displays  of  Di 
vine  power  and  goodness,  the  salutary  consequences  of  which  will 
flow  to  another  hemisphere,  and  extend  through  the  interminable 
series  of  ages!  Should  not  our  souls  exult  in  the  prospect? — . 
Though  we  shall  not  survive  to  perceive,  with  these  bodily  senses, 
but  a  small  portion  of  the  blessed  effects  which  our  revolution  will 
occasion  in  the  rest  of  the  world ;  yet  we  may  enjoy  the  progress 
of  human  society,  and  human  happiness,  in  anticipation.  We 
may  rejoice  in  a  belief,  that  intellectual  light  will  yet  illuminate 
the  dark  corners  of  the  earth ;  that  freedom  of  inquiry  will  pro 
duce  liberality  of  conduct ;  that  mankind  will  reverse  the  absurd 
position,  that  the  many  were  made  for  the  few ;  and  that  they 
will  not  continue  slaves  in  one  quarter  of  the  globe,  when  they 
can  become  freemen  in  another. 

With  such  animating  prospects  before  us;  with  a  spirit  of  in 
dustry  becoming  every  day  more  prevalent;  with  habits  of  eco 
nomy,  first  prompted  by  necessity,  now  acquiring  force  from 
fashion ;  with  dispositions  that  a  reverence  for  public  and  private 
justice  should  form  the  basis  of  our  national  character ;  we  only 


342  ON  THE  POLITICAL  SITUATION,  fcc. 

wanted  a  good  government,  well  administered,  to  establish  our 
happiness  at  home,  and  our  respectability  abroad.  This  is  the 
time  for  fixing  our  national  character  and  national  manners.  For 
this  purpose,  the  integrity,  the  talents,  and  the  examples  of  such 
an  assemblage  of  illustrious  personages  as  those  who  are  now  em 
ployed  in  the  general  government,  were  highly  requisite.  Notwith 
standing  the  unanimous  suffrage  of  our  countrymen  in  favour  of  the 
Supreme  Magistrate  supersedes  the  propriety  of  my  mentioning 
the  circumstances  of  his  coming  again  into  public  life,  the  senti 
ments  entertained  of  his  character,  and  the  benefits  expected 
from  his  administration;  yet  I  may  be  allowed  to  say,  that  no 
selection  of  sages,  in  this  or  any  other  country,  ever  merited  the 
confidence  of  their  fellow-citizens  more  than  the  members  of  the 
present  Congress.  If  then  the  body  of  worthy  citizens  will  co 
operate  with  the  general  and  state  governments,  in  endeavours  to 
promote  the  public  felicity ;  if  the  ministers  of  religion  will  exert 
themselves  in  their  holy  functions  to  disseminate  peace  and  good 
will  among  men ;  if  the  executive  officers  of  government  will  not 
bear  the  sword  of  justice  in  vain,  but  be  a  terror  to  evil  doers 
and  a  praise  to  such  as  shall  do  well ;  we  may  congratulate  our 
selves  upon  having  lived  at  so  important  a  period,  and  seen  the 
establishment  of  a  government  calculated  to  promote  the  perma 
nent  prosperity  and  glory  of  our  nation. 


DISSERTATION 


BREED  OF  SPANISH  SHEEP 


CALLED 


MERINO. 


DISSERTATION,  &c. 


J8os(on,  August  25,  1802. 
SIR, 

I  RECEIVE,  with  great  satisfaction,  the  several  publications  of 
the  Massachusetts  Society  for  promoting  Agriculture  which  have 
been  presented  to  me  ;  and  notice,  with  due  respect,  the  intimation 
that  communications  from  me  on  the  important  subject  of  their  in 
stitution  would  be  highly  acceptable  to  the  Trustees.  In  conse 
quence  of  this  general  invitation  in  writing,  corroborated  by  your 
particular  verbal  request,  I  shall  proceed  to  give  you  such  an  ac 
count  of  the  breed  of  sheep  which  I  brought  with  me  from  Europe 
to  America  as  my  recollection  can  furnish. 

Many  circumstances  concurred  to  favour  the  importation,  some 
of  which  may  not  be  expected  soon  to  unite  again :  the  sea 
son  was  the  best  that  could  have  been  chosen  for  a  safe  and  easy 
passage :  the  conclusion  of  a  general  peace  rendered  the  trans 
portation  less  exposed  to  embarrassments  than  it  had  been  for  se 
veral  years ;  and  the  diminution  of  the  freighting  business  made 
it  less  difficult  than  it  otherwise  would  have  been  to  engage  a  con 
venient  vessel  for  transporting  a  greater  number  of  sheep  than 
probably  ever  before  passed  the  Atlantic  together.  My  acquaint 
ance  in  the  capitals  of  Spain  and  Portugal,  as  well  as  with  the  of 
ficers  commanding  on  the  frontiers,  afforded  me  greater  facilities 
for  the  extraction  than  any  stranger  could  be  supposed  to  possess. 

The  importance  of  meliorating  the  breed  of  sheep  in  our  country j 
particularly  in  the  article  of  wool,  had  been  early  and  deeply  im 
pressed  on  my  mind.  In  addition  to  the  gradual  process  of  im 
provement,  by  bestowing  more  care  and  attention  on  our  native 
flocks,  in  feeding  them  well,  and  crossing  the  blood,  obviously  sug 
gested  by  reason  and  experience,  two  modes  occurred  for  hasten 
ing  and  insuring  the  attainment  of  that  interesting  object.  The 
first,  to  introduce  and  propagate  an  entirely  new  race,  if  a  more 
perfect  one  could  be  obtained :  the  second,  to  meliorate  our  stock, 
by  producing  a  mixed  progeny  from  our  ordinary  ewes,  by  rams  of 
a  better  breed.  Both  might  be  tried  at  the  same  time ;  and  various 
experiments  in  different  countries  encouraged  me  to  hope  that 
both  would  succeed.  But  before  there  could  be  sufficiently  good 

3Y 


346  ON  THE  MERINO  SHEEP. 

reason  for  justifying  the  trouble  and  expense  of  transporting  an  ade 
quate  number  across  the  western  ocean,  it  was  the  part  of  wisdom 
to  ascertain,  first,  whether  the  breed  be  superior,  in  intrinsic  va 
lue,  to  those  which  already  existed  at  the  place  of  destination? 
and,  in  that  case,  secondly,  whether  the  race  contemplated  to  be 
introduced  is  likely,  when  propagated  there,  to  retain  all  those 
qualities  which  constituted  the  original  superiority  of  value?  And 
here  I  founded  my  opinion  in  the  affirmative  of  both  questions,  as 
applied  to  a  particular  kind  of  Spanish  sheep,  on  the  facts  stated 
in  some  instances  by  respectable  individuals,  and  in  others  by  of 
ficial  reports. 

In  Spain  two  distinct  species  of  sheep  have  existed  for  ages, 
the  one  named  MERINOS,  famous  for  their  short  and  fine  wool, 
peculiarly  fit  for  carding;  the  other  denominated  CHURROS, 
distinguished  for  their  long  and  coarse  wool,  more  suitable  foy 
combing.  The  former  are  so  precions  as  to  be  sought  with  eager 
ness  by  all  who  wish  to  meliorate  the  staple  for  woollen  manufac 
tory  in  any  country  of  Europe;  while  the  latter,  though  much 
larger  in  size,  are  in  so  little  estimation  as  never  to  be  procured 
for  exportation.  My  statements  and  remarks  will  be  confined  to 
the  MERINOS.  The  height  of  the  male  is  about  the  same  as  that 
of  the  ordinary  breed  in  this  country;  the  head  appears  rather 
bigger  and  straighter ;  the  ears  are  very  small ;  the  eyes  re 
markably  bright ;  the  horns  curved  in  a  spiral  turn  ;  the  neck 
short ;  the  chest  broad ;  the  members  more  compact  and  thick 
than  those  of  our  former  breed  of  sheep;  and  the  carcase  is 
thought  to  have  smaller  bones,  and  to  be  more  rounded  in  the 
hinder  part ;  the  body,  face,  and  legs,  are  covered  with  a  deli 
cate  fleece,  which  grows  amazingly  thick,  without  any  mixture 
of  coarser  locks  or  hairs  -r  the  fleece  is  remarked  to  be  much 
more  iaapi'egnated  than  that  of  any  other  breed,  with  an  oily  sub 
stance,  apparently  exuded  in  perspiration.  This  animal  is  per 
fectly  gentle,  but  quick,  firm,  and  regular  in  all  his  movements. 
The  female  is  considered,  generally,  as  having  the  more  charao- 
teristics  of  the  pure  blood,  in  proportion  as  she  approximates  to 
this  description — yet  the  ewes  are  commonly  destitute  of  horns, 
as  is  the  case  with  those  of  my  little  flock.  That  flock,  consisting 
of  twenty-one  rams  and  seventy  ewes,  has  probably  seldom,  if  ever, 
been  surpassed  by  any  extracted  from  the  southern  peninsula  of 
Europe,  for  the  fine,  soft,  silky,  strong,  supple,  and  elastic  quali 
ties  of  the  wool.  I  send  herewith  a  specimen  in  its  natural  state, 
for  the  sheep  were  sheared  upon  their  arrival  in  this  country, 
•without  having  been  washed. 

A  few  well-attested  facts  will  serve  to  show  the  value  of  this* 


ON  THE  MERINO  SHEEP.  547 

race.  None  of  the  superfine  cloths  made  in  England,  France, 
and  Holland  can  be  fabricated  without  the  mixture  of  a  certain 
portion  of  this  wool.  The  price  is  more  than  twice  as  high  per 
pound  as  it  is  for  ordinary  kinds.  I  shall  mention,  in  another 
place,  the  increased  weight  of  the  fleece,  when  this  breed  has 
been  transferred  from  Spain  to  another  country,  upon  the  testi 
mony  of  those  concerned  in  their  management.  That  the  flesh  is 
not  less  succulent  or  well-flavoured  than  the  best  English  or  Ame 
rican  mutton,  I  have  had  frequent  opportunities  to  decide  for  my 
self.  It  is  understood  that  the  Merinos  are  more  easily  maintained 
and  fattened  than  the  taller  and  larger  breed — insomuch,  that 
there  are  persons  acquainted  with  both  breeds,  who  calculate  that 
two  hundred  of  these  small-boned  and  short-legged  sheep  may  be 
kept  in  tolerably  good  condition,  where  twenty  of  the  others  would 
suffer  for  want.  Such  are  some  of  the  singularly  useful  properties 
which  give  a  superior  value  to  this  species  of  sheep. 

To  establish  a  strong  presumption  in  favour  of  the  second  point, 
namely,  that  the  race  then  contemplated  to  be  introduced  into  the 
United  States  was  likely  to  preserve  all,  those  qualities  which 
constituted  the  original  superiority  of  value,  I  needed  only  refer 
to  the  propagation  of  a  breed  from  the  same  stock,  with  fleeces 
augmented  in  quantity  and  undiminished  in  fineness,  in  Great-Bri 
tain,  France,   Holland,   Switzerland,  Germany,   Denmark,  and 
Sweden.     In  the  most  northern  climate  to  which  they  have  been 
carried,  they  have  supported  the  cold  perfectly  well,  and  even 
without  suffering  any  injury  from  having  been,  in  some  instances, 
buried  for  a  time  under  the  snow.     At  the  national  farm  of  Ram- 
bouillet,  in  France,  they  are  reported,  on  good  authority,  to  have 
not  only  resisted  the  unfavourable  influence  of  a  situation  natu 
rally  too  low  and  moist,  but  to  have  preserved  their  wool  in  all  its 
original  fineness,  and  to  have  increased  the  weight  to  an  astonish 
ing  degree.     Hence  we  perceive   the  unsatisfactory  reasons  as 
signed  for  the  peculiar  excellence  of  this  bi'eed,  in  the  nature  of 
the  vegetables  on  which  they  feed,  and  the  journies  which  the 
greater  part  of  the  flocks  make  twice  a  year  in  Spain.     It  is  a  fact 
confirmed  by  experience  beyond  contradiction,  that  the  quality  of 
the  wool  does  not  depend  on  the  quality  of  the  pastures  in  Spain, 
because  the  same  pastures  have  maintained,  from  time  immemo 
rial,  two  different  breeds,  which  have  never  assimilated  ;  one  re 
markable  for  the  shortness  and  fineness,  the  other  tor  the  length 
and  coarseness  of  the  wool.     It  is  moreover  equally  well  proved, 
that  the  quality  does  not  depend  on  the  journies  which  the  greater 
part  of  the  Merinos  make  annually,  because  there  are  other  flocks 
of  the  same  race  which  remain  perpetually  in  the  same  district. 


348  ON  THE  MERINO  SHEEP. 

whose  fleeces  are  of  the  same  consistency  precisely  as  the  others* 
The  flocks  that  do  travel,  or  do  not  travel,  which  are  nourished 
with  plentiful  food,  and  taken  good  care  of,  by  excluding  the  de 
formed,  sick,  and  weak  from  becoming  breeders,  are  preserved 
in  all  the  purity  of  the  original  stock ;  while  those,  in  either  pre 
dicament,  migrating  or  resident,  which  are  subjected  to  feel  the 
effects  of  scarcity  and  negligence,  invariably  degenerate. 

The  race  of  Merinos,  probably  first  imported  from  Barbary  to 
Europe,  are  believed  to  have  become  superior  to  the  original  stock, 
or  at  least  to  the  sheep  which  now  exist  on  the  opposite  coast  of 
the  Mediterranean.     Climate  and  culture  have  both  an  influence 
in  the  formation   and  constitution  of   animals.     The  progeny  of 
those  which  have  been  transferred  a  great  distance  from  north  to 
south,  become  frequently  more  feeble  and  coarse  than  their  pro 
genitors — while  those  in  the  contrary  case,  which  haye  been  re 
moved  from  south  to  north,  ai-e  generally  better  formed  and  finer 
coated.     The  Moors,  who,  when  in  possession  of  Spain,  had  made 
great  proficiency  in  every  branch  of  rural  economy,  might  possi 
bly  have  co-operated  with  the  salubrity  of  the  climate  and  sweet 
ness  of  the_  pastures  in  the  improvement  of  this  breed  of  sheep. 
During  the  civil  wars,  this  moveable  treasure  was  more  readily 
rescued  from  the  depredations  of  invaders,  than  the  fruits  of  the 
earth,  by  being  more  easily  conveyed  from  the  vallies,  and  con 
cealed  in  the  mountains ;  and  might,  consequently,  have  commanded 
a  greater  portion  of  care  and  attention.    Nor  did  the  country  be 
come  altogether  unfavourable  for  the  nourishment  of  sheep,  when, 
in  several  districts,  a  slovenly  husbandry  succeeded  the  expulsion 
of  the  Moors,  and,  by  degrees,  left  extensive  uncultivated  wastes 
for  this  Tartar-like  mode  of  subsistence.     Casualty  or  necessity 
rather  than  forethought  or  reason,  introduced  the  practice  of  en 
tertaining  migrating  flocks.     They  multiplied  as  industry  in  cul 
tivating  the  soil  diminished.     The  nobles  or  rich  individuals,  who 
were  the  proprietors,  found  their  advantage  in  them.     The  trou 
ble  and  expense  of  keeping  and  nourishing  was  small.     Accident 
was  converted  into  system.     Prescription  gave  a  sanction  to  the 
proceeding;   high-ways  were  obliged  to  be  left  wide,  privileges 
were  granted,  and  laws  were  formed  for  the  protection  of  this 
species  of  property,  to  the  detriment  of  the  community :  for,  by 
these  means,  cultivation  of  the  land  was  checked,  and  crops  cir 
cumscribed  in  narrower  limits  than  they  otherwise  would  have 
been.     This  preference  has  long  been  complained  of  by  several 
patriotic  writers  on  the  subjects  of  national  industry,  Agriculture, 
and  economy;  and  it  has  been  asserted,  that  by  a  different  encou 
ragement  and  tillage,  in  produ^iog  artificial  grasses,  or  other  nu- 


ON  THE  MERINO  SHEEP.  349 

tvicious  vegetables  and  roots,  the  support  of  a  much  larger  num 
ber  of  sheep  would  be  compatible  with  a  vast  extension  of  culti 
vation.  In  the  mean  time,  while  this  suggestion  is  unadopted,  the 
vigilance  of  the  shepherds,  in  remaining  day  and  night  with  their 
charge,  in  reserving  the  best-formed  and  finest-wooled  only  for 
breeding,  and  in  knowing  and  attending  to  each  individual  of  their 
flocks,  has  doubtless  contributed  much  to  preserve  them  from  de 
generating  down  to  the  present  day. 

Convinced  that  this  race  of  sheep,  of  which  I  believe  not  one 
had  been  brought  to  the  United  States  until  the  importation  by 
myself,  might  be  introduced  with  great  benefit  to  our  country,  I 
contracted  with  a  person  of  the  most  respectable  character,  to 
deliver  to  me,  at  Lisbon,  one  hundred,  composed  of  twenty  rfive 
rams  and  seventy-five  ewes,  from  one  to  two  years  old.  They 
were  conducted,  with  proper  passports,  across  the  country  of  Por 
tugal  by  three  Spanish  shepherds,  and  escorted  by  a  small  guard 
of  Portuguese  soldiers.  On  the  10th  of  April  last  they  were  em 
barked  in  the  Tagus,  on  board  the  ship  Perseverance,  of  250  tons, 
Caleb  Coggeshall  master.  In  about  fifty  days  twenty-one  rams 
and  seventy  ewes  were  landed  at  Derby,  in  Connecticut;  they 
having  been  shifted  at  New-York  on  board  of  a  sloop  destined  to 
that  river.  The  nine  which  died  were  pi'incipally  killed  in  con 
sequence  of  bruises  received  by  the  violent  rolling  of  the  vessel 
on  the  banks  of  Newfoundland.  To  prevent  that  and  other  dis 
asters  as  far  as  might  be  by  prudent  precautions,  the  whole  space 
between  decks  was  divided  into  four  pens  of  twenty-five  sheep 
each,  the  rams  having  been  kept  separate  in  one,  and  the  least  vi 
gorous  ewes  in  another,  with  convenient  racks,  troughs,  and  tubs 
for  feeding  and  watering  them.  The  change  from  the  open  air 
to  close  confinement,  and  from  green  to  dry  food,  occasioned  them 
to  suffer  less  inconvenience  than  I  had  apprehended.  They  eat 
more  than  a  pound  of  English  hay  each,  together  with  about  a  gill 
of  Indian  corn,  or  an  equivalent  of  bran,  with  salt  occasionally, 
and  drank  at  the  rate  of  nearly  a  quart  of  water  a  day.  This 
was  double  the  ration  which  the  Spanish  shepherds  calculated. 
J  mention  these  minute  incidents  for  the  sake  of  those  who  may 
hereafter  make  importations.  Some  of  the  sheep  appeared  to 
have  so  voracious  an  appetite,  that  it  was  deemed  expedient  to  li 
mit  the  quantity  of  forage,  for  fear  of  their  injuring  themselves. 
A  few  which  would  not  eat  Indian  corn,  probably  because  their 
teeth  had  become  loose,  were  debarked  very  weak,  and  others 
much  fatigued.  All  soon  recovered,  by  being  permitted  to  feed 
freely  in  hilly  pastures  in  the  day,  and  put  under  cover  at  night, 
until  they  could  be  gradually  accustomed  to  remain  altogether  ia 


350  ON  THE  MERINO  SHEEP. 

the  field  without  danger  to  their  health.  To  habituate  them  to 
the  climate,  I  considered  one  of  the  most  important  operations. 
If  a  first  experiment  of  a  seasonable  project  fails  of  success,  it 
leaves  many  more  difficulties  to  be  encountered  and  obstacles  to 
be  surmounted,  in  all  future  essays  of  a  similar  kind,  than  if  the 
attempt  had  never  been  made. 

In  the  eastern  and  middle  States,  all  the  circumstances  encou 
rage  the  practical  farmers  to  increase  and  improve  their  breed  of 
sheep.     All  kinds  of  soil  except  marshy,  and  of  air  except  humid, 
are  friendly  to  it.     This  breed,  like  most  or  all  others,  thrives 
best  in  uplands  and  short  pastures;  but  it  is  reputed  to  be  so  sin 
gularly  hardy,  as  to  endure  rain,  snow,  and  cold,  as  well  as  any 
northern  race;  and  to  support  itself  in  parched  southern  climates, 
by  feeding  on  weeds  and  vegetables  which  most  others  would  not 
taste.     Without  entering  into  the  detail  of  enriching  the  land  on 
which  they  graze  or  are  folded,  by  their  manure,  especially  where 
a  rotation  of  crops  is  systematically  pursued,  I  should  not  omit  to 
mention,  it  has  been  asserted  that  a  moderate  sized  farm,  for  ex 
ample,    an  hundred  acres,    skilfully  manured,   may  be  made  to 
maintain  one  hundred  sheep,  and  moreover,  to  produce  as  much 
in  crops  as  it  would  have  done  had  it  been  employed  only  in  cul 
tivation,  and  not  charged  with  their  nourishment.     For  accom 
plishing  this,  it  would  undoubtedly  be  indispensable  to  have  a  com 
petent  share  of  knowledge  of  animal  and  vegetable  nature.     From 
all  the  inquiries  which  I  have  been  able  to  make  since  my  return 
to  America,    I  have  been  extremely  mortified   to  find  that  the 
breeding  of  sheep  has  been  much  neglected  for  some  time  past. 
It  is  but  too  evident  a  vital  impulse  is  wanted  to  give  new  vigour 
to  it :    and  I  cannot  but  regret  that  it  is  not  permitted,  in  the 
compass  of  a  letter,  to  dwell  more  at  large  on  the  means,  as  well 
as  to  offer,  in  a  more  alluring  manner,  the  motives  for  restoring 
that  valuable  race  of  animals,  which  seems  to  have  been  bestowed 
by  heaven  more  peculiarly  for  the  use  and  comfort  of  man,  than 
any  other,    from  its  present  state  of  decadence.     If  the  limits 
would  allow  it  to  be  done,  it  is  believed  the  discussion  would  pro 
duce  proof,  approaching  to  demonstration,  that  no  other  branch 
of  farming  could  be  carried  on  in  the  eastern  and  middle  States 
•with  so  much  advantage  to  the  public,  or  profit  to  the  individuals 
concerned,  as  the  raising  of  sheep.     The  soil  and  climate  being 
favourable,  the  quantity  of  nutriment  and  number  of  stock  might 
be  rapidly  increased  with  a  little  exertion,  even  to  such  a  degree 
as  to  furnish,  in  a  few  years,  a  great  proportion  of  the  wool  ne 
cessary  for  our  cloathing.     The  process  is  easy  and  sure,  and  does 
not  require  an  uncommon  share  of  skill  or  intelligence.    Some 


ON  THE  MERINO  SHEEP,  351 

general  instruction,  together  with  patience  and  perseverance,  are 
alone  requisite.  The  sheep  of  which  I  treat,  in  common  with 
those  long  since  familiarized  to  our  seasons,  are  rarely  liable  to 
diseases  or  accidents,  wlien  proper  care  is  taken  of  them. 

Under  the  influence  of  such  impressions,  I  thought  I  could  not 
perform  a  more  essential  service  to  my  country,  than  to  endea 
vour  to  impress  on  the  minds  of  my  compatriots,  a  conviction, 
that  the  New-England  and  neighbouring  States  are  singularly  well 
calculated  for  raising  and  maintaining  as  valuable  a  race  of  sheep 
as  any  in  the  world,  without  incurring  any  risk  of  their  growing 
worse.     More  southern  climates,   though  equally  inhabited  and 
cultivated,  might  not  be  equally  suitable  for  this  object,  on  account 
of  the  immoderate  heat.     The  wool  of  the  best  English  sheep,  in 
some  parts  of  the  West-Indies,  is  soon  converted  to  a  kind  of  hair. 
In  the  new-settled  districts  of  our  northern  and  western  territories, 
wolves  must  for  some  time  be  a  formidable  enemy.     On  the  con 
trary,    in  the  before-mentioned  States,   not  only  the  exemption 
from  the  beasts  and  men  accustomed  to  commit  depredations  on 
unguarded  fields  and  folds  in  some  other  places,  but  likewise  the 
method  of  making  enclosures,  so  that  the  sheep  may  easily  have 
a  change  of  pastures  in  the  summer,  and  the  mode  of  tilling  the 
earth  so  that  an  abundance  of  grasses  and  roots  may  be  produced 
for  a  winter  supply,  appear  to  invite  the  husbandman  to  pay  the 
most  particular  attention  to  this  most  useful  and  profitable  branch 
of  business.     No  other  cattle  will  multiply  so  fast,  or  with  so  little 
cost.     The  facility  and  certainty  of  making  vast  improvements  in 
a  very  few  years,  provided  a  patriotic  and  persevering  spirit 
should  prevail,  on  account  of  the  short  period  in  which  sheep  of 
all  descriptions  arrive  at  maturity,  is  therefore  a  consideration 
which  ought  not  to  be  overlooked  or  slighted.     Although  we  have 
no  national  or  public  farms  as  in  France,  or  grounds  belonging  to 
great  and  rich  personages  as  in  England,  which  are  destined  to 
essays  in  breeding  sheep  and  cattle,  or  to  experiments  in  useful 
branches  of  agriculture ;  yet  we  can  have  recourse  to  the  results 
of  their  experience  in  the  statements  which  are  published,  and  I 
believe  we  have  fewer  prejudices  to  contend  with  in  introducing 
improvements,  than  the  cultivators  of  any  other  country.     We 
should,  however,  be  cautious  in  varying  the  practice  in  conformity 
to  the  difference  of  local  circumstances.    We  have  a  less  number 
of  hands  for  labour,  and  a  greater  extent  of  soil  to  be  cultivated, 
than  most  of  the  nations  from  which  we  can  receive  information 
er  examples.     This,  however,  it  is  conceived,  would  not  be  un 
favourable  to  the  particular  kind  of  improvement  in  contempla 
tion. 


352  ON  THE  MERINO  SHEEP. 

To  make  the  meliorating  experiments  with  the  Merinos  which 
I  imported  as  complete  us  might  be  at  the  commencement,  I  have 
resolved  to  keep  all  the  ewes  together  on  the  same  farm,  in  order 
that  they  may  be  properly  taken  care  of,  and  that  their  descendants 
may  retain  the  original  blood  entire,  until  there  shall  be  a  sufficient 
increase  for  dispersing  and  continuing  the  pure  race  by  breeding 
separately  from  them.  I  have  concluded,  in  the  mean  time,  to  dis 
pose  of  such  proportion  of  the  rams  as  can  be  spared,  to  respectable 
farmers,  whose  names  will  be  published  hereafter,  and  whose 
characters  will  be  a  pledge  that  a  fair  opportunity  shall  be  afforded 
of  producing  an  improved  race  by  them  and  American  ewes. 
That  rams  have  been  let  for  the  season  in  England,  for  from  200 
to  1000  guineas  each,  is  a  fact  sufficiently  known  to  those  who  are 
acquainted  with  the  history  of  agricultural  proceedings  in  that 
country,  and  demonstrates  conclusively  the  wonderful  passion 
which  prevails  for  bettering  the  breed.  The  successful  experi 
ments  in  France,  on  the  same  subject,  have  been  announced  in  a 
manner  which  demands  credit.  At  Rambouillet,  a  farm  originally 
appropriated  for  making  improvements  by  the  ancient  government, 
which  is  represented  not  to  be  a  very  good  position  on  account  of 
its  humidity,  a  pure  Spanish  flock  has  been  maintained  for  many 
years,  by  the  attention  and  care  of  the  superintendants.  not  only 
in  a  perfectly  healthy  but  gradually  improving  condition,  in  such 
sort,  that  the  quality  of  the  wool  is  as  fine  as  that  of  the  best  Me» 
rinos  actually  in  Spain,  while  the  quantity  is  considerable  more 
than  doubled.  Where  large  flocks  are  kept  in  the  last-mentioned 
country,  the  sheep  do  not  produce,  upon  an  average,  more  than 
from  two  to  three  pounds.  The  rams  at  Rambouillet  yield 
from  ten  to  twelve,  and  the  ewes  from  five  to  six  pounds  each. 
From  this  stock  many  small  flocks,  both  of  the  pure  and  mixed 
breeds,  have  descended.  By  a  separate  article  in  the  treaty  of 
Basle,  the  French  government  stipulated  with  that  of  Spain  for 
the  right  of  extracting  12,000  sheep.  There  were,  some  time  ago, 
computed  to  be,  in  the  territories  of  the  Republic,  more  than 
50,000  of  the  pure  race,  besides  a  great  number  of  the  improved 
breed.  Several  intelligent  authors  in  Europe,  who  have  treated 
of  the  most  speedy  and  efficacious  modes  of  improving  wool,  have 
stated  that,  where  the  smallness  of  the  original  stock  of  Merinos 
prevents  so  rapid  a  propagation  of  the  pure  race  as  could  be 
wished,  a  mixed  breed  may  be  produced  by  Spanish  rams  and 
well-chosen  ewes  of  the  country,  whose  descendants,  in  the  fourth 
or  fifth  generation,  will  yield  fleeces  nearly  or  quite  as  fine  as  the 
first  quality  of  those  which  are  produced  in  Spain.  In  France 
the  existing  government  is  paying  the  most  zealous  attention  to 


ON  THE  MERINO  SHEEP.  353 

this  subject,  with  the  hope  of  augmenting  the  quantity  of  fine 
wool  so  much  as  to  supersede  the  necessity  of  importations  for  their 
manufactures.  The  importance  of  an  internal  supply  of  the  first 
articles  of  necessity  appears  to  be  more  understood  and  acknow 
ledged  every  day,  by  every  civilized  nation  in  the  world.  It  may 
be  asked,  How  long  are  we  to  continue  thus  like  colonies  dependant 
on  a  mother  country  ?  And  will  a  period  never  arrive  when  it 
will  be  indispensable  to  clothe  ourselves  principally  with  our  own 
productions  and  fabrics? 

It  is  time,  in  the  New-England  and  neighbouring  States  much 
has  been  done  in  families,  towards  providing  and  preparing  their 
own  clothing.  No  real  patriot  can  behold,  without  feeling  unu 
sual  emotions  of  pleasure,  the  employment  of  the  wool  cards,  the 
spinning  wheels,  and  the  domestic  looms,  in  those  nurseries  of 
manufactures.  From  the  manner  in  which  this  portion  of  the 
country  is  filled  with  inhabitants,  and  the  habits  of  occupation  which 
they  acquire  from  their  infancy,  I  shall  not  perhaps  be  too  bold 
in  predicting  that  they  will  soon  make  a  progress  which  will  sur 
pass  all  calculation  hitherto  formed.  We  have  the  materials  and 
dispositions.  Destitute  of  the  great  sources  of  riches,  which,  as 
it  were,  inundate  our  brethren  in  the  south,  on  industry  and  eco 
nomy,  in  farming,  fishing,  navigating  and  manufacturing,  must 
we,  in  this  part  of  the  union,  depend,  under  Providence,  for  our 
prosperity.  Whoever,  then,  can  add  occasions  and  motives  for  the 
practice  of  industry  and  economy,  cannot  fail  to  be  a  benefactor. 
And  need  any  of  our  farmers  despair  of  being  able  to  produce  two 
fleeces  of  wool  where  one  only  was  produced  ?  The  more  unequal 
division  of  landed  property  in  the  Southern  States,  and  the  greater 
profits  to  be  derived  from  the  rich  crops  of  wheat,  rice,  tobacco 
and  cotton,  will  naturally  tend,  for  some  time  at  least,  to  retard 
the  manufacturing  business:  yet  I  am  happy  to  learn  that,  in  the 
interior  districts  of  those  States,  many  excellent  articles  of  cloth 
ing  are  fabricated  in  the  household' way. 

The  period  of  a  general  peace  promises  more  than  any  other 
to  promote  and  accelerate  the  establishment  of  manufactures. 
That  event,  by  producing  a  stagnation  in  our  foreign  navigation, 
nearly  closing  the  avenues  to  commercial  speculations,  and  dimi 
nishing  the  external  demands  for  our  provisions,  will  afford  a 
favourable  opportunity  to  invest  a  part  of  the  surplus  capitals  in 
this  manner.  The  price  of  labour,  which  has  been  too  extrava 
gantly  high  to  be  employed  in  almost  any  kind  of  manufactures  to 
advantage,  will  ultimately  conform  to  that  of  the  necessaries  and 
conveniences  of  life.  When  these  shall  become  cheaper  in  this 
than  any  other  country,  as  will  probably  be  the  case,  die  article* 
•  2Z 


354  OK  THE  MERINO  SHEEP. 

which  are  manufactured  among  ourselves  cannot  be  dearer.     It  is 
not  here  the  place  to  inquire  whether  any  or  what  public  encou 
ragement  should  be  given  to  one  species  of  labour  in  preference 
to  another.     Nor  will  I  trespass  on  your  time  by  discussing  the 
points,  whether  our  conduct  is  to  be  approved  or  blamed  for  hav 
ing  so  long  postponed  the  establishment  of  general  manufactories, 
and  depending  so  much  as  we  have  done  on  foreigners  for  our 
woollen  goods  in  particular.     These  questions  would  involve  a  va 
riety  of  considerations,  and  carry  my  investigations  beyond  the 
subjects  proposed.     It  may  not,  however,  be  superfluous  to  say, 
that  our  astonishing  progress  in  population,    agriculture,    com 
merce,  ship-building,  and  means  of  intercourse  by  bridges,  roads, 
and  canals,  would  have  led  an  intelligent  and  impartial  observer 
to  have  expected  greater  proficiency  in  the  handy-craft  arts  which 
administer  to  the  clothing  of  the  human  body.     With  the  constant 
increase  of  internal  resources,  and  the  gradual  accession  of  national 
wealth,  this  must  arrive.     In  the  interim,  we  shall  act  wise^,  at 
least,  in  encouraging  the  domestic  fabrics  of  homespun  garments 
and  coarser  hosiery  for  ordinary  winter  use*     These  are  not  only 
stronger  and  warmer,  but  it  is  presumed  they  can  be  furnished 
cheaper  than  those  which  are  imported.     In  proportion  as  the 
wool  shall  become  more  fine,  the  cloth  fabricated  from  it  will  be 
finer  and  more  fashionable.     Nor  will  the  skill  of  foreign  work 
men  be  wanting  to  its  perfection;     The  increasing  demand  for  the 
raw  material  will,  in  all  events,  operate  as  a  perpetual  stimulus 
for  augmenting  and  improving  our  flocks.     There  is  no  danger 
that  the  market  will  ever  be  glutted.     All  the  wool  which  can  be 
produced  in  the  Country,  will  be  'manufactured  in  it.     Hence  the 
national  industry  will  be  increased  with  the  staple,  and  a  national 
saving  will  be  made,  by  stopping  the  drain  of  money,  which  is  in 
cessantly  flowing  from  us  to  pay  for  those  imported  articles  that 
will  then  be  created  among  ourselves.     I  do  not  wish  it  to  be  un 
derstood,  that  I  am  an  advocate  for  forcing  the  formation  of  great 
manufacturing  establishments,  if  more  gain  would  accrue  to  the 
community  from  exporting  the  productions  of  our  land  to  Europe, 
and  receiving  from  thence  the  productions  of  the  work-shops  in 
return.     But  if  we  caftnot  find  a  market  abroad  for  our  redundant 
crops,  and  thus  make  remittances  in  payment  for  our  importa 
tions,  will  it  not  be  good  policy  to  encourage  mechanics  and  arti 
ficers  to  come  and  consume  our  provisions,  under  the  supposition 
that,  with  the  expected  cheapness  of  living,  the  consequent  cheap 
ness  of  labour  and  use  of  machinery  will  enable  us  to  be  furnished 
with  most  of  our  wearing  apparel,  within  the  course  of  a  very 
few  years,   more  reasonably  and  satisfactorily  in  this  than  any 
other  manner? 


ON  THE  MERINO  SHEEP.  355 

From  the  preceding  facts  and  observations,  I  flatter  myself  the 
following  conclusions  maybe  justly  deduced  r,  1st,  that  the  intro 
duction  of  the  Spanish  breed  of  sheep  must  be  a  valuable  acquisi 
tion  to  the  inhabitants  of  our  country;  2dly,  that  this  breed  is 
far  more  precious  than  any  other  which  has  heretofore  existed  in 
Europe  or  America ;  3dly,  that  the  fineness  of  the  wool  in  Spain 
does  not  depend  on  the  food  or  travelling  of  the  sheep,  since  as 
fine  wool  is  produced  from  this  identical  race  when  transferred  to 
other  countries  or  stationary  in  the  same  place ;  4thly,  that  there 
is  no  probability  this  breed  will  degenerate  in  those  parts  of  the 
United  States  which  are  as  far  northward  as  those  in  Europe  from 
•whence  it  came ;  since  the  superior  qualities  of  the  Merinos  seem 
to  depend  more  on  treatment  than  locality ;  5thly,  that  tlv.y  are 
hardier,  and  more  easily  maintained  than  most  other  kinds  of 
sheep ;  6thly,  that  the  eastern  and  middle  States  appear  peculiarly 
well  adapted  for  propagating  them ;  and,  7thly,  that  their  utility 
is  the  more  manifest  from  the  existence  of  domestic  manufactures 
to  a  considerable  extent  already,  and  a  prospect  that  this  part  of 
the  union  will,  at  no  very  distant  period,  be  distinguished  for  more 
ample  and  general  establishments. 

Relieved,  as  I  am,  from  the  more  laborious  and  serious  occu 
pations  of  public  life,  I  may,  perhaps,  employ  ssme  portion  of 
my  leisure  hours  in  imparting  to  others  such  things  as  may  occur 
in  the  pursuits  of  rural  industry  and  economy,  which,  in  my  opi 
nion,  will  have  a  tendency  to  promote  the  prosperity  of  our  coun 
try.  If  the  project  of  introducing  this  bi*eed  of  sheep  should  be 
attended  with  the  desired  success,  that  country  will  be  principally 
benefited  by  it.  In  case  of  failure,  no  one  can  be  the  sufferer  but 
myself.  The  trouble  and  expense  have  been  considerable  for  an 
individual  to  incur;  but  a  consciousness  of  the  patriotic  motives 
by  which  I  was  actuated,  and  the  anticipation  that  some  national 
good  might  be  produced  by  the  attempt,  have  furnished  no  incon 
siderable  compensation.  With  such  fruition  and  perspective  on 
my  part,  it  only  remains  for  me  to  offer  my  ardent  wishes  for  the 
promotion  of  the  objects  which  claim  the  immediate  patronage  of 
your  Society,  together  with  the  assurances  of  the  sincere  regard 
and  esteem  with  which  I  have  the  honour  to  be, 
Sir, 

Your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant, 

D.  HUMPHREYS, 
To  Dr.  AARON  DEXTER, 

One  of  the  Vice-Presidents  of  the  Massachusetts 
Society  for  promoting  Agriculture. 


35$  ON  THE  MERINO  SHEEP. 

P.  S.  If  you  should  obtain  any  accurate  knowledge  of  the 
otter  breed  of  sheep  which  has  lately  made  its  appearance  in  your 
State,  I  shall  be  much  obliged  by  your  communicating  the  facts  to 
me.  Should  it  be  true  that  this  is  a  new  race,  totally  distinct  in 
its  formation  from  all  others  before  existing  on  the  globe,  its  re 
cent  origin,  which  can  be  traced,  presents  a  phenomenon  in  na 
tural  histo  ry  worthy  of  being  thoroughly  investigated. 


At  a  meeting  of  the  Trustees  of  the  Massachusetts  Society  for 
promoting  Agriculture,  August  28,  1802,  a  letter  was  read 
from  Colonel  Humphreys,  late  Minister  at  the  Court  of  Spain, 
to  the  second  Vice-President,  upon  the  subject  of  the  Merino 
breed  of  sheep,  of  which  he  has  imported  into  the  State  of  Con 
necticut  seventy-five  ewes  and  twenty-five  rams,  with  a  speci 
men  of  their  wool,  and  upon  the  importance  of  propagating 
said  breed  in  the  northern  and  eastern  States,  Etc.  &c. 

Voted,  That  the  thanks  of  the  Trustees  be  presented  to  Co 
lonel  Humphreys  for  his  valuable  and  interesting  communication 
this  day  made,  and  that  the  second  Vice-President  be  requested 
to  present  the  same,  and  furnish  him  with  a  copy  of  this  vote. 

Extract  from  the  Minutes. 
(Attest)        S.  PARKER,  Corresponding  Sec'ry. 


(  357  ) 


A  LETTER  FROM  THE  REV.  DOCTOR  PARKER. 

t  Boston,  December  15,  1802. 

Son.  DAVID  HUMPHREYS,  Esq. 
SIR, 

1  HE  Trustees  of  the  Massachusetts  Society  for  promoting  Agri 
culture,  at  their  meeting,  held  October  29,  1802,  voted  that  a 
Gold  Medal  be  presented  to  you  by  said  Society,  for  your  patriotic 
exertions  in  introducing  into  New-England  one  hundred  of  the 
Spanish  Merino  breed  of  Sheep ;  and  appointed  me  a  Committee 
to  procure  and  transmit  the  same  to  you. 

It  is  with  pleasure  I  have  executed  this  commission,  and  now 
transmit  to  you  the  Medal  accompanying  this;  and,  in  the  name 
of  the  Trustees,  request  your  acceptance  of  the  same,  as  a  small 
testimony  of  the  high  sense  they  entertain  of  your  merit  in  ac 
complishing  this  arduous  enterprize. 
I  have  the  honour  to  be, 

With  sentiments  of  the  highest  esteem  and  respect, 
Your  most  obedient  and  very  humble  servant, 

(Signed)        S.  PARKER,  Corresponding  Sec'ry. 


THE  ANSWER. 

New-Haw  en,  Ajfiril^  1803. 
The  Rev.  S.  PARKER,  D.  D. 
SIR, 

U  PON  my  arrival  in  this  city  yesterday,  I  received  the  Medal 
in  gold,  which  the  Trustees  of  the  Massachusetts  Society  for 
promoting  Agriculture  did  me  the  honour  to  present  to  me  from 
that  Society,  in  consequence  of  my  having  introduced  into  New- 
England  a  small  flock  of  the  Merino  breed  of  sheep ;  accompa 
nied  by  your  highly  esteemed  letter,  dated  at  Boston,  on  the  15th 
of  December  last. 

I  request  you  will  be  pleased,  Sir,  to  express  to  the  respectable 
Society  of  which  you  are  the  Corresponding  Secretary,  the  great 
sensibility  with  which  I  accept  this  distinguished  token  of  their 
flattering  approbation. 

Should  our  mutual  hope  and  expectation  of  meliorating  the 
breed  of  sheep  in  America,  by  the  introduction  of  this  race,  be 


358  LETTER  TO  DR.  PARKER. 

fulfilled,  I  shall  consider  myself  peculiarly  fortunate  for  having 
been  instrumental  in  producing  an  event,  from  which  I  shall  de 
rive  more  pleasure  and  consolation  than  from  any  other  transac 
tion  of  my  life.  In  all  cases,  I  shall  find  an  inexhaustible  source  of 
satisfaction  in  a  recollection  of  the  motives  for  the  importation  on 
my  part,  and  the  appreciation  of  them  on  that  of  your  Society. 

Since  my  return  from  the  seat  of  government  I  have  not  visited 
my  Merinos,  which  are  about  eight  miles  distant  from  this  place. 
I  propose  to  see  them  soon ;  and  should,  any  thing  have  occurred 
that  may  be  interesting  to  your  Society,  I  shall  take  the  liberty  of 
writing  to  you. 

My  friend,  to  whose  care  the  Medal  was  addressed,  did  not 
think  proper  to  forward  it  to  me,  while  on  my  journey,  for  fear 
of  accidents.  My  absence,  somewhat  longer  than  was  calculated, 
must  therefore  be  offered  as  an  apology  for  my  not  having  acknow 
ledged  the  receipt  of  your  letter  at  an  earlier  period.  For  your 
ti'ouble  in  executing  the  commission,  as  well  as  for  your  politeness 
in  making  the  communication,  I  beg  leave,  at  this  late  hour,  to 
tender  my  sincere  thanks,  together  with  the  respectful  assm^ances 
of  the  great  consideration  and  esteem  with  which  I  have  the 
honour  to  be, 

Sir, 

Your  most  devoted  and  most  humble  servant, 

D.  HUMPHREYS. 


CONSIDERATIONS 

ON  THE 

MEANS  OF  IMPROVING 

THE  PUBLIC  DEFENCE 

IN  A  LETTER  TO 

MIS  EXCELLENCY 
GOVERNOR  TRUMBULL. 


I 


CONSIDERATIONS,  &c. 


Boston,  September  23,  1803. 
MY  DEAR  SIR, 


CALLED  to  pay  my  respects  to  your  Excellency  at  your  lodg 
ings  in  this  town  the  morning  on  which  you  left  us,  and  found 
that  you  had  even  exceeded  your  usual  punctuality,  by  anticipating 
the  hour  which  was  fixed  for  your  departure.  For  this  disap 
pointment  I  then  hoped  to  have  been  indemnified  by  the  satisfac 
tion  of  a  meeting  in  New-Haven  at  the  public  Commencement;* 
but  my  regrets  were  still  to  be  protracted,  as  some  unforeseen 
causes  prevented  me  from  making  my  intended  journey.  Although 
I  now  promise  myself  the  gratification  of  an  interview  during 
the  next  session  of  your  Legislature,  yet  I  have  deemed  it  not 
amiss  to  recal  myself  to  your  friendly  remembrance,  in  submit 
ting  to  your  judgment  a  few  of  my  reflections  on  the  best  means 
of  conciliating  economy  and  protection,  by  the  organization  of  an 
efficient  and  disposable  force. 

I  know  not  what  author  has  observed,  that  from  the  frequent 
hostilities  between  nations,  one  would  almost  be  tempted  to  be 
lieve,  a  state  of  war,  rather  than  peace,  is  natural  to  our  species. 
In  such  a  world  as  ours,  it  is  impossible  but  that  disputes  will 
arise  ;  and  where  there  is  no  common  arbiter  to  decide,  they  must 
often  be  settled  by  an  appeal  to  arms.  Mankind,  in  civil  society, 
•when  under  a  free  government,  must  be  prepared  to  protect  their 
liberty  and  property,  or  expect  to  lose  them.  We  should  not 
presume  upon  being  exempted  from  the  lot  of  humanity.  Ought 
we  not  then  to  improve  the  means  which  heaven  has  placea  in 
our  hands  for  self-protection  ?  A  national  force  is  indispensable. 
Its  constitution  and  character  are  of  the  highest  import.  In  our 
times,  armies  are,  in  a  certain  sense,  machines — their  action,  re 
action,  momentum,  and  effect,  subjects  of  calculation.  Sages, 
ever  provident,  have  spent  much  time  in  endeavouring  to  find  the 
best  projects  of  defence.  Savages,  untroubled  with  thought  for 
the  morrow,  are  pushed  on  to  action,  promiscuously  or  separately, 


*  The  Commencement  for  conferring  Degrees  at  Yale  College. 

3A 


362  ON  THE  PUBLIC  DEFENCE. 

by  passion  or  revenge.  Among  these  tribes  of  hunters  and  war 
riors,  little  that  merits  the  name  of  plan  can  be  expected.  In 
polished  societies,  improved  as  they  now  are  in  the  arts  of  attack 
and  defence,  there  is  no  alternative  but  a  standing  army  or 
organized  militia.  That  liberty  has  often  been  destroyed  by  po 
pular  leaders  at  the  head  of  the  former,  has  been  too  frequently 
and  fully  demonstrated  by  history  to  require  new  proofs  or  illus 
trations.  A  well-constituted  force  of  the  latter  kind,  without  en 
dangering  the  liberty  of  a  country,  may  be  an  adequate  substitute 
until  the  moment  of  a  war  shall  have  arrived.  Even  after  the 
commencement  of  hostility,  the  enthusiasm  of  such  troops  will  sup 
ply  the  want  of  habitual  discipline  in  the  field,  until  an  army  can 
be  formed.  But  where  a  good  militia  does  not  previously  exist, 
almost  insuperable  obstacles  will  be  encountered  in  the  advances 
towards  a  regular  establishment.  Nor  should  an  army  for  the 
war  be  too  long  delayed,  as  it  was  in  our  revolutionary  contest. 
Then  our  honest,  but  unexperienced  rulers,  were  so  much  more 
alarmed  at  the  vei*y  name  of  a  standing  army  to  be  raised  from 
their  countrymen,  than  they  were  at  the  ravages  of  the  enemy,  as 
to  neglect  levying  soldiers  for  the  war  until  our  cause  was  reduced 
to  extreme  danger.  They  long  thought  the  country  might  be  pro 
tected  by  militia,  serving  in  rotation,  or  levies,  enrolled  on  short 
inlistments ;  notwithstanding  General  Washington,  in  almost  the 
first  communication  he  made  to  Congress,  foretold  the  fatal  con 
sequences  which  were  likely  to  happen,  and  endeavoured,  by  all 
the  means  in  his  power,  to  avert  them. 

We  know,  by  experience,  the  miseries  of  war,  and  therefore 
must  have  the  greater  relish  for  the  blessings  of  peace.  But  we 
have  not  heretofore  been  left  to  our  option.  Hostility  was  once 
forced  upon  us.  More  recently,  England  and  France  sought  by 
turns  to  involve  us  in  their  quarrel.  Greater  provocations  may 
yet  occur.  If  the  respect  for  General  Washington's  public  and 
private  character,  when  he  possessed  the  whole  confidence  of  the 
United  States  as  their  President,  was  hardly  sufficient  to  prevent 
us  from  being  hurried  into  a  war,  may  we  not  i*ationally  dread 
that  any  other  administration,  under  similar  circumstances,  would 
find  a  still  more  difficult  task  to  maintain  our  neutrality  I  Having 
such  an  extensive  navigation  so  imperfectly  protected,  and  so 
many  delicate  points  of  contact  with  the  present  belligerent  powers, 
as  to  enemy's  property  and  blockaded  ports,  happy  indeed  shall 
we  be,  if  permitted  to  increase  our  riches  without  interruption, 
amidst  the  desperate  conflicts  of  rival  and  enraged  nations.  Can 
any  thing  contribute  more  to  the  attainment  of  this  object  than 
for  us  to  assume  a  dignified  attitude  of  defence  j  and,  in  proving. 


ON  THE  PUBLIC  DEFENCE.  563 

trar  decided  predilection  for  peace,  to  convince  those  who  may 
flare  to  provoke  us  beyond  the  limits  of  sufferance,  that  we  are 
always  prepared  for  Avar  ?  I  hope  we  shall  be  so  far  from  seek 
ing  pretexts  for  hostility,  that  we  shall  most  sedulously  strive  to 
avoid  every  snare  that  might  entangle  us  in  it.  I  hope  we  shall 
never  be  reluctant  or  tardy  to  engage  in  a  righteous  cause,  when 
ever  it  cannot  be  avoided  but  by  an  infamous  dereliction  of  princi 
ple  or  sacrifice  of  honour.  And,  in  such  a  crisis,  I  trust,  by  the 
benediction  of  heaven,  that  we  shall  come  forward  to  meet  our 
enemies  with  a  portion  of  courage  and  unanimity  which  has  never 
been  surpassed  in  the  annals  of  mankind.  But  God  forbid  we 
should  ever  be  so  infatuated  as  to  swell  the  black  catalogue  of 
crimes,  and  augment  the  hereditary  ills  of  our  race,  by  the  wan 
ton  effusion  of  human  blood  from  motives  of  ambition,  conquest, 
and  aggrandisement. 

Notwithstanding  the  vaunted  perfectibility  of  human  nature, 
we  cannot  conceal  from  ourselves,  that  the  rage  of  domination 
still  invents  excuses  for  aggression.  Lessons,  on  invasions  of 
peaceable  and  distant  States,  are  too  distinctly  printed  in  charac 
ters  of  blood,  not  to  be  legible.  Addressing  a  person  of  less  his 
torical  knowledge  and  political  forecast  than  your  Excellency,  I 
might  have  adverted  to  the  tremendous  events  which  have  lately 
occurred  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  Without  displaying 
fictitious  scenes  of  distress,  to  agitate  the  terrified  imagination, 
I  would  have  said,  "  let  us  turn  our  eyes  to  the  records  of  Hol 
land,  Italy  and  Switzerland !  Shall  we  there  see  no  awful  moni 
tions  in  the  pages,  no  ghastly  figures  in  the  prints?  Shall  we, 
struck  with  judicial  blindness,  not  be  able  to  read,  for  our  own 
benefit,  the  book  of  their  destinies?  Or  rests  the  day  in  darkness 
ere  long  to  dawn  on  our  encrimsoned  land,  when  we  too,  by  want 
of  military  spirit  and  national  union,  shall  become  the  vile  vassals 
of  insiduous  and  powerful  invaders,  and  be  comprehended  in  the 
ignominious  list  of  those  degraded  States  which  have  lost  their 
independent  rank  among  the  nations  of  the  earth  ?  No ;  never 
shall  mortal  eye  witness  that  sight.  If  we  will  but  be  faithful  to 
ourselves;  if,  with  one  soul,  we  will  add  energy  to  the  martial 
system,  and,  with  millions  of  hands,  cement  to  the  federal  fabric, 
then  may  we,  in  defence  of  our  rights,  defy  a  world  in  arms." 

Who  can  count  upon  the  stable  enjoyment  of  peace,  in  the  con 
vulsed  situation  of  Europe?  While  the  English  government  is  so 
seriously  preparing  to  repel  an  invasion  which  threatens  its  very 
existence;  while  the  inhabitants  of  the  British  Islands  are  induced 
to  make  unprecedented  sacrifices  in  time  and  money  for  defence; 
while  France  presents  such  a  colossial  force  as  appears  to  overawe 


364  ON  THE  PUBLIC  DEFENCE. 

the  old  world;  and  while  the  fate  of  nations  depends  more  than 
at  any  former  epocha  on  their  dastardly  and  ignorant,  or  bold  and 
skilful  use  of  arms;  shall  we,  who,  under  the  fostering  smiles  of 
an  indulgent  Providence,  have  nobly  defended  our  rights  and  vin 
dicated  our  independence  by  jeoparding  our  lives  in  the  field, 
suffer  that  spark  of  heroism  to  expire?  Though  smothered,  it 
shall  brighten.  The  sons  of  such  sires,  whenever  their  country 
shall  be  in  danger,  will  feel  this  inextinguishable  heat  more  ar 
dently  rekindled  in  their  glowing  breasts.  But  however  highly 
excited,  unless  skilfully  managed  and  directed,  will  it  accomplish 
the  desired  end?  To  render  the  heroic  ardour  really  useful,  dis 
cipline  must  be  united  with  courage.  When  a  nation,  like  ours, 
is  peculiarly  favoured  by  heaven  with  the  fruition  of  freedom  and 
happiness,  it  becomes  one  of  its  highest  obligations,  to  discover 
and  put  in  execution  the  best  measures  for  their  preservation. 
To  despise  this  precaution  would  be  madness. 

What  then  is  to  be  done  ?  A  wise  policy  requires  no  regular 
troops  with  us,  in  time  of  peace,  but  garrisons  for  our  posts,  forts, 
and  arsenals.  We  shall  not  be  necessitated  to  have  any  descrip* 
tion  of  men  detached  or  distinct  from  the  rest  of  the  community 
in  their  interests  or  feelings.  This  felicity  results  from  our  local 
position,  surrounded  by  water  and  wilderness,  and  so  remote  from 
the  warlike  powers  of  Europe,  that  no  expedition  could  approach 
us  without  our  having  timely  notice.  The  case  is  far  different  with 
them,  since  the  system  of  standing  armies  has  been  introduced  in 
modern  times,  each  is  obliged  to  incur  the  expense  of  such  an  esta 
blishment,  as  a  defence  against  the  sudden  aggressions  of  its  neigh 
bours.  Instead  of  adopting  the  Lacedemonian  mode  of  forming 
a  whole  people  to  arms  by  education,  the  military  profession  has 
been  confined,  and  the  safety  of  the  State  committed  to  mercena 
ries,  conscripts,  substitutes,  and  volunteers.  In  the  present  pe 
culiar  state  of  Europe,  it  is  true,  armed  nations  appear  to  be 
becoming  once  more  the  order  of  the  day.  Our  youths,  born  un 
der  other  circumstances,  and  brought  up  to  different  occupations, 
need  not  be  nourished  by  the  Spartan  black  broth  to  harden  their 
constitutions,  or  be  tutored  to  martial  exercise  as  a  business  for 
life.  Standing  armies  live  upon  the  fruits  of  the  labour  of  others, 
and  contribute  little  to  the  subsistence,  wealth,  or  embellishment 
of  their  country.  The  courage  and  industry  of  bees  present  a 
distinguished  pattern  for  imitation :  like  them,  with  us  all  should 
be  employed  in  defending  the  commonwealth  and  collecting  sub 
stance  for  the  common  stock.  With  us,  all  should  be  soldiers  as 
well  as  citizens.  Not  indeed  in  that  ridiculous  acceptation  of  the 
terms,  which  supposes  the  character  of  the  former  so  naturally 


ON  THE  PUBLIC  DEFENCE.  365 

connected  with  the  character  of  the  latter,  that  nothing  farther  is 
necessary  than  proudly  calling  them  by  these  significant  names. 
When  it  was  proposed  that  certain  classes  of  the  militia,  between 
given  ages,  should  be  encamped  some  weeks  annually,  for  the 
purpose  of  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  tactics  and  manoeuvres  from 
practice,  the  proposal  Avas  rejected,  principally  on  account  of  the 
loss  of  time  to  the  individuals,  and  the  cost  of  maintenance  to  the 
States.  It  was  moreover  objected  to  the  plan,  that  the  youths,  col 
lected  together  at  a  gay  season  of  life,  and  exposed  to  licentious 
amusements  at  the  intervals  of  duty,  might  be  in  danger  of  con 
tracting  habits  of  indolence  and  dissipation.  These  difficulties  will 
not  be  easily  overcome.  Yet,  without  opportunity  and  practice,  it  is 
impossible  to  learn  the  first  rudiments  of  the  ai't  of  war.  An  armed 
crowd,  insubordinate  and  undisciplined,  is  but  a  mob  on  which  no 
dependence  can  be  placed.  If  we  will  not  have  an  efficacious  force 
of  a  better  description,  we  shall  have  a  standing  army.  An  ill- 
timed  saving,  which  should  prevent  the  militia  from  becoming  that 
efficacious  force ,  would  be  the  worst  sort  of  prodigality,  and  would 
be  utterly  incompatible  with  those  true  principles  of  frugality  by 
•which  our  State  has  always  been  governed.  General  Washington, 
dreading  the  disasters  of  supineness,  had  few  projects  nearer  to 
his  heart,  than  that  of  providing  a  safe  and  competent  defence, 
in  time  of  peace,  for  the  security  of  the  country  in  time  of  war. 
Your  Excellency  has  frequently  heard  him  express  the  most  fer 
vent  wishes  that  this  might  be  effected  before  the  knowledge  ob 
tained  in  our  revolutionary  war  should  be  lost  with  the  lives  of 
those  who  served  in  it.  Happily  his  advice  has  been  of  some  avail 
in  the  formation  of  the  outlines  of  our  general  militia  establish 
ment.  To  the  improvement  of  this  system  we  must  look  for  our 
principal  protection. 

The  Legislatures  of  the  several  States  AVI  11  undertake  this  task 
with  eagerness  or  reluctance,  according  as  they  shall  consider  it 
of  greater  or  smaller  importance.  To  recommend  the  policy  to 
ours,  little  need  be  said.  The  State  Avhich  shall  have  the  best 
militia  will  not  be  the  least  respected  by  its  neighbours  or  fo 
reigners.  Negligence  in  making  a  suitable  provision  for  that  pin- 
pose,  may  not  improbably  be  followed  by  repentance.  No  terri 
tory  furnishes  better  subjects  for  military  service  than  Connecticut. 
Its  compact  and  populous  settlement  in  toAvns  offers  some  facility 
for  their  exercising  under  arms.  Few  troops  are  distinguished 
by  more  favourable  dispositions  and  capacities  for  acquiring  a 
knowledge  of  the  profession.  Our  citizens,  among  whom  property- 
is  more  equally  divided  than  among  any  other  people  in  the  world, 
have  more  of  the  comforts  of  life  to  make  them  robust,  and  fewer 


S66  ON  THE  PUBLIC  DEFENCE. 

luxuries  to  render  them  effeminate,  than  most  others.  Compe 
tence  is  universal — superfluity  rare.  This  is  the  natural  course 
of  things  in  a  State  where  the  greater  part  of  the  inhabitants  are 
employed  in  cultivating  the  soil  which  belongs  to  themselves ;  and 
where  the  rest,  chiefly  composed  of  mechanics,  merchants,  and 
professional  men,  likewise  gain  an  honest  livelihood  by  their  own 
labour.  Thus  industrious  and  hardy  by  education  and  habit,  they 
will  experience  little  inconveniency  in  becoming  practical  soldiers; 
since  from  docility,  sobriety,  and  energy  of  character,  they  have 
always  been  found,  when  brought  to  the  trial,  apt  for  enterprize, 
patient  of  fatigue,  and  undaunted  in  danger. 

The  general  government  has  judiciously  adopted  a  uniform  plan 
for  organizing,  arming,  and  disciplining  the  militia  of  the  seve 
ral  States.  On  their  separate  governments  has  devolved  the  duty 
of  giving  effect  to  the  system.  It  is  not  for  me  to  relate  the  dif 
ferent  degrees  of  success  with  which  their  measures  have  been 
attended  in  the  various  districts  of  the  union.  Bodies  of  militia 
are  every  where  to  be  seen.  But  of  what  utility  to  the  public  de 
fence  are  such  bodies,  unless  animated  by  a  military  SPIRIT? 
Without  it,  they  are  cadaverous  and  languid — with  it,  florid  and 
vigorous. 

In  my  judgment,  militia  are  treated  by  officers  of  regular 
armies,  and  particularly  by  French  officers,  with  a  degree  of  con 
tempt  they  do  not  deserve.  I  have  heard  some  of  the  latter,  most 
conversant  in  the  theory  and  practice  of  war,  assert,  that  no  pos 
sible  multitude  of  militia  could  oppose  a  successful  resistance  to 
even  a  small  number  of  veterans.  When  the  victories  of  their 
countrymen,  at  the  commencement  of  their  revolution,  were  ob 
jected  in  confutation  of  the  maxim,  they  remarked  that  the  na- 
•  tional  guards  had  such  an  abundance  of  engineers,  artillerists,  of 
ficers,  and  privates  from  the  ancient  royal  army  mixed  in  their 
composition,  as  to  constitute  them,  in  a  qualified  sense,  disciplined 
forces.  It  is  certain  thei'e  is  an  immense  difference  between  dis 
ciplined  and  undisciplined  militia.  Your  Excellency  will  readily 
understand  that  I  entertain  no  good  opinion  of  an  armed  nation, 
destitute  of  order  and  skill.  Whenever  such  a  nation  should  be 
made  to  rise  en  masse,  instead  of  furnishing  the  expected  sup 
port,  it  would,  like  every  other  enormous  structure  raised  on 
rotten  foundations,  be  crushed  by  its  own  weight.  It  is  precisely 
to  avoid  the  risk  of  such  a  catastrophe,  that  our  militia,  who  are 
to  be  relied  upon  for  the  defence  of  the  government  of  their  own 
choice,  for  the  defence  of  their  institutions  and  laws,  their  tem 
ples  and  dwellings,  their  wives  and  children,  every  thing  dear 
and  sacred,  should  not  only  be  long  and  well  accustomed  to  the  use 


ON  THE  PUBLIC  DEFENCE.  367 

of  fire  arms,  by  shooting  at  marks,  but  shoald  also  be  trained  to 
such  short  yet  systematic  manoeuvres  and  evolutions  as  would 
enable  them  to  meet,  upon  equal  terms,  their  foes  in  the  field. 

I  believe  our  ELITE,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  consisting  of  the 
cavalry,  artillery,  grenadier  and  light-infantry  companies,  with 
small  improvement  by  practice,  if  put  in  competition  with  regular 
troops,  would  not  suffer  by  the  comparison.  The  composition  of 
these  corps,  as  to  officers  and  privates,  could  scarcely  be  better. 
They  are  completely  armed,  equipped,  and  clothed ;  and  the  dra 
goons  are  as  well  mounted  as  the  dragoons  in  most  services  in  Eu 
rope.  Your  Excellency  will  recollect  with  me,  how  useful  our 
old  militia  troopers  were,  in  the  early  stages  of  our  revolution, 
before  the  establishment  of  a  regular  cavalry.  Since  that  time 
our  resources  for  obtaining  supplies,  as  well  as  our  manufacture 
of  arms  and  breed  of  horses,  have  been  almost  infinitely  improved. 
The  rapid  movement  of  the  before  mentioned  corps,  if  they  should 
be  previously  formed  together  for  that  object,  would,  at  the  com 
mencement  of  an  invasion,  gain  time  for  the  rest  of  the  force  of 
the  country  to  rally  for  its  defenee. 

Every  prudent  government  should  study  to  make  every  pre 
paration  that  is  practicable  before  a  war  shall  take  place,  for  the 
purpose  of  preventing  that  delay  of  march,  waste  of  stores,  and 
confusion  in  action,  which  would  otherwise  be  inevitable.  No 
longer  ago  than  the  last  session  of  Congress,  the  consideration  of 
this  important  subject  of  ameliorating  the  public  force  was  re 
sumed  ;  and,  in  consequence  of  their  deliberations,  the  President, 
in  his  circular  communication  to  the  executives  of  the  respective 
States,  recommended  it,  with  cogent  arguments,  to  prompt  atten 
tion.  Ait  a  time  so  pregnaat  with  events,  it  is  hoped  that  an  ob 
ject  so  prominent  in  itself,  and  which  possesses  the  uncommon 
advantage  of  uniting  all  parties  in  its  favour,  will  not  be  neglected. 
It  is  even  hoped  that  there  will  be  no  opposition  to  making  such 
farther  provision,  not  burdensome  to  the  State  or  its  citizens,  for 
annual  reviews,  uniform  clothing,  and  exercising  days,  as  cannot 
fail  to  have  an  influence  in  perfecting  the  system  of  national  de 
fence. 

To  have  great  bodies  of  troops  more  frequently  under  arms,  in 
presence  of  numerous  and  respectable  spectators,  reviewed  by 
officers  of  high  rank  and  reputation,  who  will  compare  their  ap 
pearance,  equipments,  and  manoeuvres,  must  furnish  new  motives 
for  exciting  them  to  excel.  The  desire  of  being  approved,  for 
conscious  excellence,  by  those  whose  characters  we  respect,  is 
inherent  in  every  breast  not  callous  to  all  the  feelings  of  honour 
and  shame.  Most  men  have  a  natural  fondness  for  the  splendid 


368  ON  THE  PUBLIC  DEFENCE. 

show  and  grand  parade  of  military  reviews.  Here  private  re 
creation  may  be  turned  to  public  advantage.  In  general,  no  peo 
ple  appear  more  sensible  to  merited  applause  than  the  Ame 
ricans.  This  passion  is  a  powerful  stimulus  to  improvement.  In 
addition  to  the  advantages  resulting  from  the  ordinary  trainings 
and  inspections  as  now  practised,  the  passing  of  reviews  in  a 
more  imposing  manner  would  have  the  happiest  effect.  Some 
States,  I  understand,  have  considerably  expensive  establishments 
of  inspection.  With  us  no  Inspector-General  has  been  appointed, 
apparently  from  an  objection  to  the  expense.  If,  then,  the  ser 
vices  could  be  performed  without  charge  to  the  State,  the  objec 
tion  would  cease.  The  States,  having  the  regulation  of  their 
staff,  have  always,  I  believe,  constituted  their  Governors  Cap 
tains-General  and  Commanders  in  Chief;  and  the  Lieutenant- 
Governors  have  frequently  been  invested  with  the  rank  of  Lieu 
tenants-General.  They  would  doubtless  have  the  faculty  of  pass 
ing  their  troops  in  review.  But  it  will  sometimes  happen  that  nei 
ther  of  them  have  been  military  men.  Nor,  if  they  were  pro 
fessionally  competent,  might  it  be  convenient  for  them  annually  to 
visit  all  parts  of  the  State  where  the  regiments,  brigades,  and  di 
visions  could  be  most  easily  assembled.  Might  not  a  new  arrange 
ment  into  large  departments  facilitate  the  accomplishment  of  the 
same  purpose,  by  other  means,  with  less  inconveniency  ?  If  your 
four  divisions  should  be  formed  into  two  wings;  and  your  eight 
regiments  of  cavalry,  with  the  artillery,  grenadier  and  light-in 
fantry  companies,  into  one  corps ;  the  two  first  under  the  com 
mand  of  two  officers,  and  the  last  under  the  command  of  one  of 
ficer,  of  superior  grades,  as  Lieutenants  to  the  Captain-General 
and  inspectors  e.v  officio,  might  not  great  benefits  be  expected 
from  their  inspections  and  reviews,  without  any  expense  to  the 
State?  These  officers  to  receive  their  orders  and  instructions 
from  the  Captain-General.  And  would  not  the  celerity,  regu 
larity,  and  efficiency  of  operations  be  promoted  by  adopting  an  ar 
rangement  for  commands  similar  to  those  which  exist,  according 
to  the  best  of  my  knowledge,  in  every  foreign  state  which  has  a 
military  force,  even  inferior  to  our  own  ? 

With  such  motives  for  emulation  as  would  then  be  offered,  and 
with  a  little  indirect  aid  to  assist  in  purchasing  clothing,  it  is  to  be 
presumed  that  the  whole  body  of  militia,  well  armed  and  equip 
ped,  might  be  got  into  full  uniform  in  the  course  of  one  or  two 
years.  Those  who  have  not  witnessed  the  contrast  between  uni 
formed  troops  and  motley  militia,  will  not  readily  appreciate  the 
astonishing  consequence  which  is  attached  to  the  article  of  dress. 
There  are,  perhaps,  visionary  theorists  who  have  spent  their 


ON  THE  PUBLIC  DEFENCE.  369 

days  in  their  closets,  and  honest  husbandmen  who  have  scarcely- 
moved  from  their  farms,  who  will  demand,  in  all  the  assurance 
of  triumph,  whether  real  patriots  cannot  shoot  as  directly  at  the 
enemy,  and  fight  as  well  for  their  country  under  one  garb  as  an 
other?  We  must  recur  for  the  decision,  in  its  general  result, 
from  speculation  and  prejudice  to  expei'ience  and  fact.  The 
practice  of  all  civilized  nations  gives  their  answer.  Yet,  by  de 
ciding  general'y  in  the  negative,  it  should  not  be  denied  there 
may  be  particular  moments  of  enthusiasm  which  form  an  excep 
tion.  But  wise  men  calculate  less,  in  a  long  struggle,  upon  mo 
mentary  impulse  than  permanent  principle.  We  must  judge 
from  what  has  been,  what  will  be.  Hum?.n  nature  should  be  taken 
as  a  basis  of  calculation  as  it  exists,  not  as  presented  through  the 
medium  of  distorting  imaginations. 

There  pppears  to  be  a  species  of  factitious  as  well  as  of  natural 
courage.  Some  brilliant  distinctions,  such  as  are  furnished  by 
standards  and  uniforms,  have,  in  all  modern  times,  tended  to 
create  an  esprit  du  corfis;  whence  emanates  a  moral  that  aug 
ments  the  physical  force.  Thus  individuals  recognize,  with  plea 
sure,  the  members,  as  it  were,  identified  with  the  body.  And 
while  they  contribute  their  joint  efforts  in  a  common  cause,  they 
feel  themselves  mightily  strengthened  by  mutual  dependence.  Sea 
men  and  soldiers,  of  any  nation,  who  in  their  aggregate  charac 
ter  believe  themselves  invincible,  have  gained  a  great  point  to 
wards  becoming  so  in  reality.  What  can  equal  the  confidence  of 
the  Englirh  at  sea,  or  the  French  on  land,  but  their  success? 
Where  there  is  no  discrimination  in  apparel,  each  will  entertain 
as  good  an  opinion  of  himself  as  of  his  companions,  and  rush 
boldly  to  the  performance  of  gallant  exploits,  in  hopes  of  sharing 
in  the  common  glory.  Men,  naturally  of  weak  nerves,  by  an  ar 
tificial  association  of  ideas,  may  be  made  mechanically  brave.  It 
is  certain,  sppe^rnnce  sometimes  influences  opinion.  A  decent 
yeomanry  in  uniform  will  feel  more  self-respect,  than  a  dissolute 
rabble  in  rags. 

The  preference  generally  given  to  such  of  our  corps  as  are 
dressed  in  uniform,  is  principally  attributable  to  their  dress.  All 
the  others  would  probably  soon  be  clothed  in  uniform,  upon  being 
exempted  from  the  poll-tax,  in  consequence  of  their  procuring 
such  clothing.  At  the  last  October  session  of  your  Legislature, 
I  vfis  surprised  to  observe  a  clause  to  this  effect,  after  it  had 
passed  in  the  house  of  representatives,  upon  re-consideration,  re 
scinded.  I  could  not  conjecture  why  this  negative  encouragement 
should  be  withheld.  It  was  conceded,  that  this  measure  would 
have  been  greatly  instrumental  in  giving  a  soldier-like  appearance 

3B 


370  ON  THE  PUBLIC  DEFENCE. 

to  the  whole  body  of  militia ;  and  that  the  State  was  not  extremely 
in  want  of  this  pittance,  since  so  far  from  being  in  debt,  it  had  a 
considerable  sum  of  money  in  its  treasury.  Besides,  this  policy 
must  have  been  satisfactory  to  a  great  majority  of  their  constitu 
ents,  because  it  would  have  been  altogether  favourable  to  the  mid 
dling  and  poorer  classes  of  people. 

The  inhabitants  of  Connecticut  are  probably  more  economical 
of  time,  than  those  of  any  other  State.  I  shall  not  propose  any 
thing  which  might  encroach  largely  upon  it.  They  allow  them 
selves  no  holidays,  and  few  amusements.  The  excess  in  the  first 
article  is  a  vast  disadvantage  in  some  countries.  Yet  reasonable 
relaxation  from  the  fatigue  of  business  is  necessary  to  all  man 
kind.  Perhaps  a  few  days  set  apart  among  us,  and  celebrated 
by  military  exhibitions,  in  commemoration  of  national  events, 
would  be  rather  beneficial  than  detrimental.  To  claim  this  dis 
tinction,  three  anniversaries  have  particularly  presented  them- 
se'ves  as  having  a  reference  to  our  ancestors,  ourselves,  and  our 
posterity.  These  are,  the  22d  of  December,  the  day  of  the  land 
ing  of  the  first  settlers  in  New-England — the  19th  of  April,  the 
day  of  the  battle  of  Lexington — and  the  4th  of  July,  the  day  of 
the  Declaration  of  Independence.  If  any  more  interesting  should 
occur  in  lieu  of  these,  they  might  be  adopted.  Any  objection 
which  might  be  made  on  account  of  the  diminution  of  labour, 
would  be  too  contemptible  to  be  entitled  to  a  serious  reply.  No 
trade  or  profession  can  be  learned  without  an  allowance  of  time 
for  learning  it.  The  military  art,  I  mean  that  part  of  it  which  is 
necessary  to  be  known  by  soldiers,  is  not  so  simple  and  easy  as  to 
come  instinctively  without  practice,  or  so  complicated  and  difficult 
as  to  present  any  notable  discouragements  in  its  acquisition.  But 
no  one  acquainted  with  the  subject  will  pretend  that  a  few  more 
days  are  not  necessary  than  are  at  present  appropriated  by  law. 
If  liberty  be  worth  enjoying,  it  is  worth  defending.  And  if  it  be 
demonstrable,  liberty  cannot,  in  any  other  way,  be  so  well  de 
fended  as  by  an  organized  and  disciplined  force,  safe  by  its  con 
stitution,  and  efficacious  by  its  capacity,  like  the  militia  in  contem 
plation;  dull  of  comprehension  must  he  be  indeed,  a  miser  in 
soul,  and  an  idiot  in  policy,  who  should  begrudge  the  moderate 
means  requisite  for  the  perfection  of  such  a  force. 

In  all  ages  men  have  been  dexterous  and  indefatigable  in  sys 
tematizing  the  science  of  mischief.  Human  ingenuity  has  been 
put  to  the  torture  to  invent  expeditious  modes  of  destruction :  so 
eager  are  short-lived  moi'tals  to  abbreviate  the  work  of  death. 
Why  should  not  the  machinations  intended  for  the  annoyance  of 
mankind  be  as  dexterously  turned  to  their  protection  ?  Whether 


ON  THE  PUBLIC  DEFENCE.  571 

the  discovery  of  the  stupendous  powers  and  murderous  uses  of 
gun-powder  has  caused  engagements  to  be  sooner  decided  and  less 
sanguinary  or  not,  it  has  at  least  been  instrumental  in  altering 
the  management  of  warfare  and  the  conduct  of  campaigns. 
Strength  and  weakness,  as  physical  qualities  in  man,  have  been 
reduced  in  their  operations  nearly  to  a  level.  From  a  distance, 
the  dwarf  can  overthrow  the  giant.  Prowess  has  often  less  to  do 
in  gaining  victories  than  evolution.  It  has  been  said,  the  French 
Generals,  young  in  years,  old  in  conquests,  despised  the  tactics 
of  their  enemies,  and  vanquished  by  prodigies  of  valour.  On  the 
contrary,  those  Generals,  more  than  others,  calculated  on,  and 
profited  by,  the  discipline  of  mind  as  well  as  body.  Different  im 
pulses  prevailed  in  actuating  the  soldiery  at  different  periods  of 
the  revolution — first  the  spring  of  enthusiasm — next  the  reign  of 
terror — and,  last,  the  name  of  the  great  nation.  And,  moreover, 
the  French  troops,  in  the  rapidity  of  their  marches,  and  the  ex 
actness  of  their  co-operations,  as  it  were,  multiplied  their  num 
bers,  by  presenting  themselves  at  various  points  of  attack  almost 
at  the  identical  moment,  and  contributed  to  the  triumph  of  their 
arms  not  less  by  the  precision  of  their  manoeuvres  than  the  impe 
tuosity  of  their  assaults. 

From  the  preceding  observations  result  three  suggestions :  1st, 
Whether  it  would  not  be  useful  to  form  the  four  divisions  into  two 
wings,  and  the  cavalry,  together  with  the  companies  before  men 
tioned,  into  one  corps,  (this  corps  to  remain  attached  to  their  re 
giments  and  brigades,  unless  otherwise  ordered  by  the  Captain- 
General)  to  be  reviewed  by  officers  of  superior  grades,  named  for 
the  purpose :  2dly,  To  exempt  from  poll-taxes  all  who  shall  pro 
duce  certificates  of  their  being  completely  equipped  and  clothed 
in  uniform :  and,  Sdly,  To  appropriate  a  few  additional  days  for 
military  exercise. 

The  wonderful  effect  of  warlike  sounds  in  animating  the  cou 
rage  of  soldiers  is  universally  acknowledged.  By  their  modula 
tion  and  unison,  signals  may  be  given  and  movements  regulated, 
In  martial  music  we  are  far  inferior  to  the  Europeans.  I  never 
heard  a  good  band  in  America.  If  I  did  not  apprehend  the  suc 
cess  to  be  almost  hopeless,  I  would  urge,  in  the  strongest  terms, 
the  expediency  of  procuring  and  maintaining,  by  the  fines  for  de 
linquency,  or  in  such  other  manner  as  shall  be  judged  best,  at 
least  one  good  band  of  music  for  each  military  division.  Without 
a  general  provision  by  the  Legislature,  the  partial  efforts  of  of 
ficers  can  never  accomplish  this  object.  If  lotteries  be  ever  ad- 
missable,  this  occasion  seems  to  invite  a  supply  from  that  popular 
j?aode  of  contribution,  Besides  raising  a  fund  for  the  last  men- 


372  ON  THE  PUBLIC  DEFENCE. 

tioned  object,  might  not  the  scheme  be  so  contrived  as  that  the 
low  prizes  should  be  paid  to  the  proprietors  of  fortunate  tickets,  in 
handsome  uniforms,  at  a  cheap  rate,  if  preferred  to  cash? 

Thus  have  I  attempted  to  show  how  armed  citizens,  without 
being  torn  from  their  occupations  in  time  of  peace,  and  without 
disappointing  the  public  expectations  at  the  commencement  of  a 
war,  may  be  made  really  capable  of  defending  their  country  until 
another  force  can  be  substituted.  A  militia  without  energy  is  a  sa 
tire  on  its  friends,  and  a  mockery  to  its  foes.  A  people  so  aban 
doned  to  avarice  and  apostate  from  patriotism,  as  to  refuse  mak 
ing  those  few  preparatory  sacrifices  in  time  and  money,  which  may 
be  necessary  for  their  defence,  are  unworthy  of  independence. 

Notwithstanding  all  we  have  heard  of  new  doctrines,  we  hsve 
been  taught,  and  we  have  believed,  that  in  the  proper  use  of  hu 
man  means,  our  highest  help  and  last  reliance  is  on  the  GOD  of 
SAffLES.  In  him  our  forefathers,  when  few  in  numbers,  and 
feeble  in  resources,  trusted,  and  were  not  deceived.  What  can 
be  more  glorious  than  heroic  achievements  in  a  just  cause?  A 
war  in  such  a  cause  may  be  waged  under  the  auspices  of  heaven 
itself.  The  Holy  One,  who  inhabits  Eternity,  has  not  disdained 
to  style  himself  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  or  to  go  forth  to  battle  with 
the  armies  of  his  people.  Invoking  his  name,  confiding  in  his 
strength,  and  marching  under-  the  banners  of  independence,  in 
the  day  of  difficulty  will  we  resort  to  his  Sanctuary.  I  am  afraid 
we  have  not  been  grateful  enough  to  that  Almighty  Protector  who 
has  caused  us  to  dwell  in  tranquillity,  while  so  many  nations  hr.ve 
been  grievously  afflicted  wuh  the  calamities  of  war.  A  nation 
without  religion  and  morals,  is  always  ripening  fast  for  that  state 
of  corruption  which  often  precedes  decay,  and  terminates  in 
ruin.  Under  a  due  conviction  of  our  relations,  dependencies, 
and  duties,  may  we  never  neglect  to  avail  ourselves  of  all  those 
means  which  the  experience  of  mankind  and  our  own  reason  point 
out  as  best  calculated  for  the  preservation  of  our  inestimable  civil 
and  religious  privileges! 

Persuaded  that  your  Excellency  will  receive  with  indigence 
this  prolix  letter,  from  an  ancient  and  intimate  associate  in  arms, 
on  a  subject  so  analogous  to  our  former  employment,  I  conclude, 
without  farther  apology,  in  repeating  the  professions  of  the  unal 
terable  attachment  and  perfect  consideration  with  which  I  have 
the  honour  to  be, 

Your  sincere  friend  and  humble  servant, 

D.  HUMPHREYS. 


MEMORIAL 

OF    THE 

SOCIETY  OF  THE  CINCINNATI 

IN  CONNECTICUT. 


To  the  Honourable  the  General  Assembly  of  the  State  of  Con 
necticut,  to  be  holden  at  New-Haven,  on  the  second  Thursday 
of  October,  A.  D.  1803. 

-A  HE  undersigned  memorialists,  authorised  on  the  part  of  the 
Society  of  Cincinnati  in  said  State,  to  solicit  that  the  Legislature 
•would  be  pleased  to  nass  an  act  of  incorporation  in  their  favour, 
so  for  only  as  relates  to  the  security  of  their  fund  for  the  purposes 
originally  intended,  beg  leave  respectfully  to  i-epresent,  That  at 
the  conclusion  of  the  long  and  arduous  contest  which  terminated 
so  gloriously  in  the  acknowledgment  of  the  independence  of  the 
United  States,  the  Society  of  which  your  memorialists  are,  on 
this  occasion,  the  orgrm,  was  formed  by  the  voluntary  association 
of  the  officers  of  the  Connecticut  line,  in  the  army,  from  motives 
of  friendship  and  charity : 

That  they  were  particularly  induced  to  form  this  union  by  a 
desire  to  cultivate,  in  the  tranquillity  of  peace,  those  friendly  dis 
positions  which  had  been  produced  under  a  participation  of  com 
mon  sufferings  and  dangers  in  the  midst  of  the  troubles  of  war; 
and  of  furnishing,  from  a  fund  to  be  created  for  the  purpose,  such 
pecuniary  aids  as  the  pressing  necessities  of  any  of  the  associates 
or  their  families  might  require : 

That  for  the  sake  of  giving  effect  to  the  first  mentioned  object, 
viz.  cultivating  the  friendships  thus  contracted,  they  agreed  t» 
celebrate  their  festival  on  the  anniversary  of  independence;  at 
which  time  they  have  been  in  the  habit  of  assembling:  and  that 
for  the  more  effectual  accomplishment  of  the  second  mentioned 
object,  viz.  assisting  with  pecuniary  aids  their  necessitous  asso 
ciates  and  families,  all  the  members  contributed  one  month's  pay 
of  their  respective  grades. 


3X4  MEMORIAL  OF  THE  CINCINNATI. 

All  the  world  knows  that  the  army  was  disbanded  under  pecu 
liar  circumstances  of  hardship  and  distress,    on  account  of  the 
arrears  of  wages  due  to  them  at  the  time ;  and  that  the  anticipa 
tions  of  many  meritorious  officers,  in  regard  to  future  scenes  of 
indigence,  have  been  but  too  fully  realized.     It  was  then  wise  in 
the  officers  to  have  joined  in  creating  a  fund  for  the  relief  of 
those  who  might  be,  from  untoward  accidents,  reduced  to  inevi 
table  misfortunes.     This  resource  may,  without  wounding  their 
feelings,  be  shared  by  those  unfortunate  individuals  whose  high 
notions  of  honour,  fostered  by  long  military  service,  would  rather 
leave  them  to  starve,  perish,  and  be  forgotten,  than  to  beg  their 
bread  through  a  country  their  valour  had  been  exerted  to  save : 
and  such  there  are,  on  whom  the  heavy  hand  of  poverty  would 
have  fallen  with  insupportable  weight,  had  not  the  pressure  been 
alleviated  by  the  cheering  help  of  that  very  Society  which  now 
seeks  Legislative  protection  for  the  fund  from  whence  it  proceeds. 
A  part  of  the  interest  of  that  fund  is  annually  appropriated  to  the 
use  of  some  decayed  or  superannuated  officers  of  your  line,  who 
having  been  thrown  out  of  their  ordinary  pursuits  of  business  by 
the  war,  were  afterwards  unable  to  gain  a  livelihood  by  new  oc 
cupations,  either  on  account  of  their  age  or  infirmity,   and  for 
•whose  declining  days  no  particular  provision  was  made  by  their 
country.     Dutiful  and  industrious  daughters  have  been  aided  in 
maintaining  an  aged  and  debilitated  father.      Desolated  widows 
have  received  a  support,  and  helpless  orphans  an  education :  and, 
in  more  than  one  instance,  some  comfort  has  been  attempted  to 
be  administered  to  the  hoary  veteran,  deprived  of  reason  by  the 
awful  visitation  of  heaven.     Delicacy  forbids  a  public  specification 
of  names ;  but  the  archives  of  the  Society,  which  are  open  to  in 
spection,  attest  the  facts.     Another  charitable  fund,  equal  to  such 
effects,  would  not  be  easily  established;  that  in  question,  if  de 
stroyed,  would  not  be  replaced;  and  certainly  the  contemplation 
of  its  destruction  could  afford  no  satisfaction  to  any  feeling  breast. 
More  than  twenty  years  have  elapsed  since  the  Society  of  Cin 
cinnati  has  existed.     The  associates  humbly  conceive  they  have 
not  belied,  by  their  actions,  the  avowed  motives  of  their  institu 
tion.     If  proofs  of  the  rectitude  of  their  intentions  were  wanting, 
they  might,  perhaps,  without  arrogance,  refer  to  their  conduct 
as  citizens  as  well  as  soldiers.     In  war,  in  peace,  they  have  found 
safety  in  relying  on  each  other.     They  ask  no  guarantee  for  that 
branch  of  their  social  institution  in  which  their  amity  is  alone 
concerned.     The  purity  with  which  their  fund  has  hitherto  been 
managed,  is  calculated  to  inspire  a  confidence  in  the  future  appli 
cation  of  that  precious  pledge  of  reciprocal  affection.    But  their 


MEMORIAL  OF  THE  CINCINNATI.  375 

original  members  are  diminished  by  death.  Changes  not  favoura 
ble  to  responsibility  for  property  committed  in  trust,  sometimes 
take  place  from  unforeseen  failures  and  disappointments.  And 
no  one  is  ignorant  that  such  adverse  contingencies  may  happen  in 
process  of  time,  with  respect  to  any  joint  property  not  regulated 
and  secured  by  law,  as  to  render  its  tenure  extremely  precarious. 
Nothing  selfish  will,  we  trust,  be  imputed  to  the  Society.  And  it  is 
hardly  to  be  believed,  that  an  act  of  incorporation,  merely  calcu 
lated  to  give  consistency  and  duration  to  so  amiable  and  useful  a 
charity,  will  ultimately  be  refused,  at  the  same  time  that  such 
acts  are  so  liberally  extended  to  societies  for  establishing  banks, 
insurance  companies,  turnpike  roads,  toll  bridges,  Sec. 

Your  memorialists,  however,  think  it  would  not  be  consistent 
with  their  duty  to  suppress  one  further  fact.  A  number  of  the 
members  of  the  Society,  apprehending,  from  past  unsuccessful 
efforts,  that  insuperable  difficulties  might  be  encountered  in  en 
deavouring  to  obtain  a  charter  of  incorporation,  and  presuming 
that  the  fund  could  not  much  longer  be  kept  with  propriety  in  its 
present  situation,  did,  at  the  last  annual  meeting,  propose  a  disso 
lution  of  the  Society,  and  a  division  of  the  fund.  This  measure 
was  not  then  adopted,  upon  the  principle'  that  it  would  be  prema 
ture  to  make  such  an  irrevocable  decision,  until  one  more  humble 
address  should  be  preferred  to  the  Honourable  Legislature  for  an 
act  of  incorporation. 

Charged  as  your  memorialists  are  with  bringing  that  respectful 
supplication  before  your  honourable  body,  at  the  time,  and  in  the 
way  they  shall  deem  most  likely  to  be  efficacious  for  obtaining  the 
wishes  of  the  Society,  they  now  hope  for  its  indulgent  reception, 
while  they  express  their  entire  persuasion,  that  the  existence  or 
annihilation  of  the  Society  and  its  fund  must  be  involved  in  the  de 
termination  of  the  present  question.  They  therefore  most  ear 
nestly  solicit,  in  the  name  and  behalf  of  the  Society  of  the  Cin 
cinnati  in  Connecticut,  that  the  Honourable  Legislature  will  take 
the  premises  into  their  wise  deliberation,  and  grant  such  an  act 
of  incorporation  for  the  purpose  before  mentioned  as  to  their  wis 
dom  shall  seem  meet  ;  and  they  as  in  duty  bound  will  ever  pray. 


Dated  at  JVew-  Haven,  October  1CM,  A.  D.  1803. 

D.  HUMPHREYS,  7 

JOHN  MIX,  5    Conamttef' 


(     376    ) 
A 

SPEECH, 

DELIVERED  BEFORE  THE  GOVERNOR  AND  COUNCIL,  IN  SUPPORT  OF  THE 
PRECEDING  MEMORIAL,  NOVEMBER  2,  1803. 


May  it  please  your  Excellency, 

I  O  induce  this  Honourable  Board  to  grant  the  prayer  of  the 
memorial  which  has  just  been  presented  on  the  part  of  the  Society 
of  the  Cincinnati,  we  flatter  ourselves  little  more  will  be  neces 
sary  than  a  simple  statement  of  facts,  in  illustration  of  those  which 
have  already  been  stated  in  that  memorial. 

The  Society  of  the  Cincinnati  was  formed,  at  the  close  of  our 
revolutionary  war,  in  this  manner.  The  officers  in  the  canton 
ment  of  New-Windsor  anticipated  that  the  signature  of  that  very 
peace  which  gave  independence  to  their  country,  was  the  signal 
for  them  to  part  for  ever.  They  had  long  been  connected  as  a 
band  of  brothers.  They  had  contracted  friendvhips  which  they 
wished  might  not  be  dissolved.  It  was  natural  that  men,  who  had 
passed  so  much  of  their  best  time  together,  mostly  in  the  morn 
ing  of  life,  when  the  mind  is  peculiarly  susceptible  of  new  and 
durable  impressions,  for  the  attainment  of  so  important  an  object, 
and. who  had  shared  together  the  toils,  hardships,  sufferings,  and 
dangers  of  so  long  a  war,  which  were  often  not  of  an  ordinary 
nature,  should  ha«ve  felt  strong  attachments  for  each  other.  The 
moment  of  separation,  when,  in  all  human  probability,  few  of 
them  would  ever  meet  again,  was  approaching.  They  thought 
it  would  be  a  rational  gratification  to  see  one  another  sometimes, 
during  the  short  continuance  of  their  lives,  even  if  it  were  but 
once  in  a  year. 

Under  these  circumstances  the  Society  was  instituted.  The 
General  Orders  for  separation  were  issued.  Perhaps  few  more 
solemn  and  impressive  scenes  have  ever  been  exhibited.  An  army, 
victorious  in  the  field,  and  triumphant  in  the  best  of  causes,  quietly 
disbanded  and  mingled  in  the  mass  with  their  fellow-citizens !  It 
was  a  patriotic  lesson  for  mankind.  I  remember  well  that  day — 
nor  can  it  be  effaced  from  the  memory  of  your  Excellency.  I 
have  seen  those  veterans,  (for,  whatever  their  age,  such  they  were 
after  more  than  eight  years  service)  without  uttering  one  word. 


A  SPEECH,  Sec.  377 

the  tears  secretly  stealing  from  their  eyes,  grasping  each  others' 
hands  at  parting;  and  only  consoled  by  the  idea,  I  should  rather 
say  by  the  fond  hope,  that  they  might,  perchance,  meet  on  some 
future  anniversary  of  independence.  I  must  acknowledge  my  own 
feelings  were  never  so  much  affected  on  any  other  occasion.  And 
your  Excellency,  who  was  present  with  me  at  the  Head-Quarters 
of  the  army,  and  who  was  one  of  the  last  and  most  intimate  of 
the  friends  who  took  leave  of  the  Commander  in  Chief,  can  bear 
ample  testimony  to  this  interesting  and  affecting  scene. 

But,  may  it  please  your  Excellency,  there  was  another  object 
which  equally  engaged  our  attention  at  that  memorable  period. 
A  number  of  the  officers,  after  having  spent  their  best  days  in  the 
public  service,  without  having  received  scarcely  any  compensa 
tion  to  that  time,  destitute  of  money,  without  friends,  with  few 
resources,  unable  to  go  with  advantage  into  the  employments  and 
occupations  for  which  they  had  been  destined,  had  to  bear  up 
against  many  misfortunes  and  discouragements,  especially  when 
they  were  burdened  with  the  maintenance  of  large  families.  So 
embarrassed  were  some  of  them,  that  they  had  barely  where 
withal  to  face  their  most  necessary  expenses,  and  to  quit  the  can 
tonment  without  leaving  debts  behind  them.  To  provide  a  fund 
for  the  relief  of  the  most  necessitous,  it  was  agreed  by  all,  that 
one  month's  pay  should  be  reserved,  whenever  their  accounts 
should  be  finally  settled.  At  the  origin  of  the  Society  all  sub 
scribed,  and  afterwards,  upon  the  settlement  of  their  claims  upon 
the  United  States,  contributed  in  proportion  to  their  rank.  A 
fund  was  thus  created.  If  any  of  our  old  companions,  now  worn 
out  with  years  and  infirmities,  have  been  enabled  to  pass  the  even 
ing  of  life  in  a  mare  comfortable  manner  than  they  would  other 
wise  have  done,  and  the  names  of  such  will  be  seen  in  the  minutes 
of  our  proceedings;  or  if  the  widows  and  orphans  of  others  have 
been  essentially  assisted,  and  we  can  there  point  to  several  of  the 
former  who  have  been  greatly  aided  in  educating  the  latter,  even 
from  our  scanty  supply — we  applaud  not  ourselves,  but  we  rejoice 
that  Providence  has  crowned  our  designs  with  success. 

For  the  faithful  application  of  that  fund  we  appeal  to  our  re 
cords.  In  them  you  will  find  no  history  of  fictitious  poverty  and 
misery,  but  a  relation  of  sums  given  to  relieve  real  distress. 
There  is  no  instance  of  the  distribution  of  this  charity,  alluded  to 
in  our  memorial,  which,  we  presume,  cannot  be  confirmed  by 
the  personal  knowledge  of  some  of  the  members  of  one  or  other 
house  of  the  Legislature. 

The  contingencies  and  casualties  arising  from  deaths,  failures 
by  bankruptcies,  and  other  disappointments,  which  may  endanger 

3  C 


S7S  A  SPEECH  TO  THE  GOVERNOR 

the  loss  of  that  fund,  are  too  obvious  to  be  insisted  upon.  With 
out  enlarging  on  the  reasons  which  are  set  forth  in  the  memorial, 
to  show  the  insecure  tenure  of  joint  property,  held  in  trust,  un 
protected  by  law,  I  will  only  say,  "  I  feel  a  serious  conviction,  that 
a  refusal  to  grant  the  prayer  of  the  memorial  must  be  attended 
with  the  destruction  of  the  charitable  part  of  our  institution." 
And  the  motion  made,  as  it  were,  in  despair,  at  the  last  annual 
meeting,  in  this  very  council  chamber,  for  the  dissolution  of  the 
Society  and  the  division  of  the  fund,  will  probably  produce  the 
same  conviction  in  every  mind. 

May  it  please  your  Excellency,  I  have  thus  endeavoured  to  com 
prise  the  few  things  I  had  to  say  in  as  narrow  limits  as  possible. 
They  may  be  comprehended  under  four  heads,  as  they  related, 
1st,  To  the  circumstances  under  which  the  Society  was  formed: 
2d,  The  objects  for  which  it  was  instituted :  3d,  The  manner  in 
which  those  objects  have  been  accomplished :  and,  4thly,  What  I 
am  convinced  must  be  the  result  if  the  prayer  of  this  memorial 
should  not  be  granted. 

It  will  doubtless  be  remembered  by  your  Excellency  and  your 
Honours,  that,  soon  after  the  formation  of  this  Society,  attempts 
were  made,  and  not  without  some  degree  of  success,  to  render  it 
unpopular,  by  pretending  it  originated  in  motives  of  ambition,  and 
was  designed  to  imitate  the  privileged  orders  of  Europe.  But  I 
humbly  conceive,  what  I  have  said  respecting  its  origin  and  objects 
would  be  sufficient  to  confute  any  such  attempts,  if  they  needed 
confutation  at  this  late  period.  More  than  twenty  years  have 
elapsed,  and  not  one  fact  has  occurred  to  countenance  these  jealous 
insinuations.  No  person,  Sir,'  could  be  more  opposed  to  this 
dreaded  innovation,  to  this  pretended  project  for  introducing  pri 
vileged  orders,  than  myself.  But  every  person  who  has  the 
slightest  acquaintance  with  the  subject,  does  know  that  there  is 
not  the  remotest  analogy  between  the  societies.  And  would  Ge 
neral  Washington,  and  a  host  of  patriots  who  might  be  men 
tioned,  have  sacrificed  their  principles,  and  sullied  their  glory, 
by  giving  their  sanction  to  such  a  scheme?  Let  every  candid 
inquirer  judge  for  himself.  Nay,  let  the  whole  impartial  world 
decide,  whether  our  actions  have  not  accorded  with  our  pro 
fessions.  Whatever  prejudices  might  have  partially  existed,  we 
believe  they  exist  no  more  ;  for  we  know  there  is  not  the  smallest 
pretext  for  them.  We  believe  that  the  sentiments  of  the  com 
munity  at  large,  if  they  could  be  known,  would  be  strongly  in 
our  favour,  that  is  to  say,  in  favour  of  a  charter  of  incorpora 
tion  for  the  purpose  proposed.  And  we  cannot  but  hope,  that  your 
Excellency  and  your  Honours  will  manifest  the  same  sentiments, 


AND  COUNCIL  OF  CONNECTICUT.  379 

by  adopting  the  only  possible  measure  for  preventing  this  source 
of  beneficence  from  being  for  ever  dried  up. 

May  it  please  your  Excellency,  it  remains  to  be  decided  whe 
ther  our  request  is  reasonable  or  unreasonable.  What  do  we  ask? 
We  ask  nothing  but  protection  for  a  charity,  devoted  to  the  un 
fortunate,  under  peculiar  circumstances  and  relations  as  to  our 
feelings.  Yes,  may  it  please  your  Excellency,  suffer  me  to  repeat 
it  with  emphasis,  we  ask  NOTHING  but  PROTECTION  for  a  CHA 
RITY;  and  will  THAT  be  refused?  Will  you  REFUSE  that  PRO 
TECTION,  in  this  case,  which  you  have  granted  to  societies  for 
establishing  banks,  insurance  companies,  turnpike-roads,  toll- 
bridges,  as  well  as  for  several  other  purposes  supposed  to  be  use 
ful  to  some  portion  of  the  commonwealth  ?  Are  we  a  description 
of  citizens  less  favoured  than  others?  And  have  we  forfeited  the 
good  opinion  of  our  country  by  fighting  for  its  independence  ?  Di 
vest  our  institution  of  the  formidable  name  of  Cincinnati  (if  there 
be  a  magic  in  the  name  that  can  make  it  so),  and  what  will  there  be 
but  a  friendly  and  charitable  society,  to  which  you  could  have  no 
difficulty  in  granting  what  is  now  solicited  !  As  a  society,  we  are 
neither  numerous,  or  rich,  or  powerful,  or,  perhaps,  more  united 
in  political  sentiments  than  the  rest  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
State.  As  individuals,  we  are  much  the  greater  part  of  us  so 
far  removed  from  indigence  as  never  to  expect  any  benefit  for 
ourselves  or  our  families  from  the  fund  during  our  lives.  Sir,  we 
can  then  have  little  interest  in  the  object  of  our  request,  so  far  as 
it  respects  us  personally :  for,  after  a  few  more  years  shall  have 
revolved,  not  one  of  us  who  served  through  the  revolutionary  war 
will  be  left  alive.  But,  in  the  hour  of  death,  it  would  afford  a 
consolation  to  hope,  that,  if  we  have  done  some  little  good  in  our 
day,  it  might  be  made  to  survive  us. 

*#*  Leave  was  given  in  the  House  of  Representatives,  by  a 
large  majority,  to  bring  in  a  bill  in  form  on  the  subject  of  the  me 
morial.  But  it  was  negatived  in  the  other  house.  And,  conse 
quently,  the  request  of  the  society  was  not  granted. 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX. 


LETTER  L 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON,  President  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  to  DAVID  HUMPHREYS,  Minister  of  the  United 
States  of  America,  at  Lisbon. 

Philadelphia,  March  16th,  1791. 
MY  DEAR  SIR, 

.A.S  this  letter  is  wholly  of  a  private  nature,  I  refer  you  to  Mf. 
Jefferson's  official  communications  for  every  thing  relative  to  your 
appointment  at  the  Court  of  Lisbon,  &c.  and  shall  confine  myself 
to  acknowledging  your  two  letters,  viz.  one  from  London,  of 
October  31,  and  the  other  from  Lisbon,  of  November  30,  1790 ; 
and  to  such  general  observations  as  may  occur  in  the  course  of 
my  writing.* 

********* 

Congress  finished  their  session  the  3d  inst.  in  the  course  of 
which  they  received  and  granted  the  applications  of  Kentucky  and 
Vermont  for  admission  into  the  union ;  the  former  after  August, 
1792,  and  the  latter  immediately.  They  made  provision  for  the 
Interest  on  the  national  debt,  by  laying  a  higher  duty  than  that 
which  heretofore  existed  on  spirituous  liquors  imported  or  manu 
factured.  They  established  a  national  bank.  They  passed  a  law 
for  certain  measures  to  be  taken  towards  establishing  a  mint ;  and 
finished  much  other  business  of  less  importance;  conducting,  on 
all  occasions,  with  great  harmony  and  cordiality.  In  some  few 
instances,  particularly  in  passing  the  law  for  higher  duties  men 
tioned  above,  and  more  especially  on  the  subject  of  the  bank,  the 
line  between  the  Eastern  and  Southern  interest  appeared  more 
strongly  marked  than  could  have  been  wished :  the  former  in  fa 
vour  of,  and  the  latter  against  those  measures.  But  the  debates 
were  conducted  with  temper  and  candour. 

The  convention  between  Spain  and  England  seems  once  more 
to  have  composed  the  European  powers,  except  the  Empress  and 


*  The  original  letters  will  be  deposited  where  they  may  be  seen  by  thepublic.  It  is  probable 
tlkat  th*  few  lines  now  omitted  will  be  published  hereafter. 


384  APPENDIX. 

the  Turks:  and  the  Emperor  appears  to  have  settled  matters 
pretty  thoroughly  in  his  dominions.  Of  the  state  of  things  in 
France  we  can  form  no  just  idea,  so  various  and  contradictory  are 
our  accounts  from  thence ;  but  we  most  devoutly  wish  a  speedy 
and  happy  termination  of  the  struggle  which  has  for  some  time 
past  convulsed  that  kingdom. 

Peace  and  tranquillity  pervade  the  territory  of  the  United  States, 
except  on  the  north-west  side  of  the  Ohio,  where  the  frequent  de 
predations  of  the  Indians  made  it  necessary  to  form  an  expedition 
against  them  last  fall ;  but  that  has  not  been  productive  of  the  con 
sequences  which  were  expected  from  it.  The  Indians  still  continue 
their  hostilities,  and  measures  are  now  taking  to  convince  them, 
if  they  do  not  see  the  folly  of  their  way  before  they  can  be  carried 
into  effect,  that  the  arm  of  the  United  States  is  as  much  to  be 
dreaded  as  their  friendship  is  to  be  desired. 

Our  public  credit  is  restored;  our  resources  are  increasing; 
and  the  general  appearance  of  things  at  least  equals  the  most 
sanguine  expectation  that  was  formed  of  the  effects  of  the  pre 
sent  government. 

I  am  about  to  set  out,  to-morrow  or  next  day,  on  a  tour  through 
the  Southern  States.  I  am  under  the  necessity  of  commencing 
my  journey  with  very  bad  roads,  in  order  that  I  may  take  such 
advantages  of  the  season  as  to  be  leaving  the  southern  extremity 
before  the  travelling  shall  be  rendered  disagreeable,  and  perhaps 
dangerous,  by  the  heat. 

I  expect  to  return  to  this  city  in  the  latter  part  of  June  or  early 
in  July.  Since  the  rising  of  Congress  I  have  been,  and  shall  be 
till  my  departure,  very  busily  engaged  in  making  such  arrange 
ments  with  the  several  departments  as  will  enable  me  to  be  absent 
for  several  months  without  interrupting  public  business.  And  if 
I  have  not  said  every  thing  in  this  letter  that  I  intended,  or  that 
you  might  expect,  it  must  be  imputed  to  the  hurry  of  the  moment. 
But  at  any  rate,  there  is  one  thing  I  must  not  omit,  which  is  to 
tell  you  that  I  am  very  sincerely, 

Your  affectionate  friend, 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

P.  S.  Mrs.  Washington  and  all  the  family  cordially  unite  with 
me  in  best  wishes  for  you. 


(     385     ) 

LETTER  II. 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON,  President  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  to  DAVID  HUMPHREYS,  Minister  of  the  United 
States  of  America  at  Lisbon. 

Philadelphia,  July  20,  1791. 
MY  DKAR  SIR, 

J.  HAVE  received  your  letters  of  the  16th  of  February  and  3d  of 
May,  and  am  much  obliged  by  your  observations  on  the  situation, 

manners,  customs,  and  disposition  of  the  Spanish  nation.        * 

*##**#***#* 

In  my  last  I  mentioned  my  intention  of  visiting  the  Southern 
States,  which  I  have  since  accomplished ;  and  have  the  satisfac 
tion  to  inform  you,  that  I  performed  a  journey  of  1887  miles  with 
out  meeting  with  any  interruption  by  sickness,  bad  weather,  or 
any  untoward  accident.  Indeed,  so  highly  were  we  favoured,  that 
we  arrived  at  each  place  where  I  proposed  to  make  any  halt  on 
the  very  day  I  had  fixed  upon  before  we  set  out.  The  same  horses 
performed  the  whole  tour,  and  although  much  reduced  in  flesh, 
kept  up  their  spirits  to  the  last  day. 

I  am  much  pleased  that  I  have  taken  this  journey,  as  it  has 
enabled  me  to  see,  with  my  own  eyes,  the  situation  of  the  country 
through  which  we  travelled,  and  to  learn  more  accurately  the 
disposition  of  the  people  than  I  could  have  done  by  any  information. 
The  country  appears  to  be  in  a  very  improving  state,  and  industry 
and  frugality  are  becoming  much  more  fashionable  than  they  have 
hitherto  been  there.  Tranquillity  reigns  among  the  people,  with 
that  disposition  towards  the  general  government  which  is  likely  to 
preserve  it.  They  begin  to  feel  the  good  effect  of  equal  laws  and 
equal  protection.  The  farmer  finds  a  ready  market  for  his  pro 
duce,  and  the  merchant  calculates  with  more  certainty  on  his  pay 
ments.  Manufactures  have,  as  yet,  made  but  little  progress  in 
that  part  of  the  country,  and  it  will,  probably,  be  long  before  they 
are  brought  to  that  state  to  which  they  have  already  arrived  in 
the  middle  and  eastern  parts  of  the  union. 

Each  day's  experience  of  the  government  of  the  United  States 
seems  to  confirm  its  establishment,  and  render  it  more  popular. 
A  ready  acquiescence  in  the  laws  made  under  it  shows,  in  a  strong 
light,  the  confidence  which  the  people  have  in  their  representa 
tives,  and  in  the  upright  views  of  those  who  administer  the  go 
vernment.  At  the  time  of  passing  a  law  imposing  a  duty  on  home 
made  spirits,  it  was  vehemently  affirmed  by  many,  that  such  a 

3D 


286  APPENDIX. 

law  could  never  be  executed  in  the  Southern  States,  particularly 
in  Virginia  and  North-Carolina.  As  this  law  came  into  force  only 
on  the  first  day  of  this  month,  little  can  be  said  of  its  effects  from 
experience ;  but  from  the  best  information  I  could  get  on  my  jour 
ney  respecting  its  operation  on  the  minds  of  the  people  (and  I 
took  some  pains  to  obtain  information  on  this  point),  there  remains 
no  doubt  but  it  will  be  carried  into  effect,  not  only  without  oppo 
sition,  but  with  very  general  approbation  in  those  very  parts 
where  it  was  foretold  that  it  would  never  be  submitted  to  by  any 
one. 

It  is  possible,  however,  and  perhaps  not  improbable,  that  some 
demagogue  may  start  up — produce,  and  get  signed  some  resolu 
tions  declaratory  of  their  disapprobation  of  the  measure. 

Our  public  credit  stands  on  that  gronnd  which,  three  years  ago, 
it  would  have  been  considered  as  a  species  of  insanity  to  have 
foretold.  The  astonishing  rapidity  with  which  the  newly-instituted 
Bank  was  filled,  gives  an  unexampled  proof  (here)  of  the  re 
sources  of  our  countrymen,  and  their  confidence  in  public  mea 
sures.  On  the  first  day  of  opening  the  subscriptions,  the  whole 
number  of  shares  (25,000,  including  the  5000  subscribed  on  ac 
count  of  the  United  States)  were  taken  up  in  one  hour,  and  appli 
cation  made  for  upwards  of  4,000  shares  more  than  were  granted 
by  the  institution,  besides  many  others  that  were  coming  in  from 
different  quarters. 

For  sometime  past  the  western  frontiers  have  been  alarmed  by 
depredations  committed  by  some  hostile  tribes  of  Indians.  Such 
measures  are  now  in  train  as  will,  I  presume,  either  bring  them 
to  sue  for  peace  before  a  stroke  is  struck  at  them,  or  make  them 
feel  the  effects  of  an  enmity  too  sensibly  to  provoke  it  again  unne 
cessarily;  unless  ******** 
********** 

Though  I  must,  at  the  same  time,  confess  I  cannot  see  much 
prospect  of  living  in  tranquillity  with  them  so  long  as  a  spirit  of 
land-jobbing  prevails;  and  our  frontier  settlers  entertain  the 
opinion  that  there  is  not  the  same  crime,  or  indeed  no  crime  at 
all,  in  killing  an  Indian  as  in  killing  a  white  person. 

You  have  been  informed  of  the  spot  fixed  upon  for  the  seat  of 
government  on  the  Potowmack,  and  I  am  now  happy  to  add,  that 
all  matters  between  the  proprietors  of  the  soil  and  the  public  are 
settled  to  the  mutual  satisfaction  of  the  parties ;  and  that  the  busi 
ness  of  laying  out  the  city,  the  grounds  for  public  buildings,  walks, 
&c.  is  progressing  under  the  inspection  of  Major  L'Enfant  with 
pleasing  prospects. 

Thus  much  for  our  American  affairs.    I  wish  I  could  say  as 


APPENDIX.  387 

much  in  favour  of  circumstances  in  Europe.  But  our  accounts 
from  thence  do  not  paint  the  situation  of  the  inhabitants  in  very 
pleasing  colours.  One  part  exhibits  war  and  devastation ;  another, 
preparations  for  war;  a  third,  commotions;  a  fourth,  direful 
apprehensions  of  commotions;  and,  indeed,  there  seems  to  be 
scarcely  a  nation  enjoying  uninterrupted  or  unapprehensive  tran 
quillity. 

The  example  of  France  will  undoubtedly  have  its  effects  on 
other  kingdoms.  Poland,  by  the  public  papers,  appears  to  have 
made  large  and  unexpected  strides  towards  liberty;  which,  if 
true,  reflect  great  honour  on  the  present  King,  who  seems  to  have 
been  the  principal  promoter  of  the  business.  By  the  bye,  I  have 
never  received  any  letter  from  Mr.  Littlepage,  or  from  the  King 
of  Poland,  which  you  say  Mr.  Carmichael  informed  you  were 
sent  to  me  last  summer. 

I  yesterday  had  Don  Jaudenes  (who  was  in  this  country  with 
Mr.  Gardoqui,  and  is  now  come  over  in  a  public  character,)  pre 
sented  to  me,  for  the  first  time,  by  Mr.  Jefferson.  Colonel  Ter- 
nant  is  expected  here  every  day  as  Minister  from  France. 

I  am  glad  to  learn  that  the  air  of  Lisbon  agrees  so  well  with 
you,  I  sincerely  hope  that  you  may  long — very  long  enjoy  the 
blessings  of  health,  accompanied  with  such  other  blessings  as  may 
contribute  to  your  happiness.  I  have  been  in  the  enjoyment  of 
very  good  health  during  my  journey,  and  have  rather  gained  flesh 
upon  it.  Mrs.  Washington  desires  her  best  wishes  may  be  pre 
sented  to  you :  you  are  always  assured  of  those  of, 
My  dear  Sir, 

Your  sincere  and  affectionate  friend, 

GEO.  WASHINGTON. 


LETTER  III. 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON,  President  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  to  DAVID  HUMPHREYS,  Minister  of  the  United 
States  of  America  at  Lisbon. 

Philadelphia,  March  23,  1793, 
MY  DEAR  SIR, 

CLOSELY  engaged  in  the  business  incident  to  my  office  during 
the  session  of  Congress,  and  as  closely  employed  since,  in  making 
arrangements  for  carrying  into  effect  the  laws  then  passed,  and 


388  APPENDIX. 

in  discharging  other  duties,  I  have  not,  till  this  moment,  found 
myself  enough  at  leisure  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your  letter 
of  the  23d  of  July;  and  being  now  on  the  eve  of  setting  out  for 
Mount-Vernon,  I  shall  be  able  to  do  little  more  than  barely  ac 
knowledge  the  receipt  of  it,  and  of  your  favours  of  the  23d  of 
January  and  8th  of  February,  both  of  which  have  reached  my 
hands  within  these  few  days. 

****##**** 

I  shall  therefore  content  myself  at  present,  my  dear  Sir,  with 
making  a  few  general  observations  on  the  existing  state  of  things, 
and  rely  upon  your  being  assured,  that  however  concise  my  letter 
may  be,  it  does  not  become  so  from  any  diminution  of  my  regard 
for  you. 

If  it  can  be  esteemed  a  happiness  to  live  in  an  age  productive 
of  great  and  interesting  events,  we  of  the  present  age  are  very 
highly  favoured. 

The  rapidity  of  national  revolutions  appears  no  less  astonishing 
than  their  magnitude;  and  the  consequences  of  them  seem  to 
baffle  every  calculation.  In  what  they  will  terminate  is  known 
only  to  the  Great  Ruler  of  events ;  and  confiding  in  his  wisdom 
and  goodness,  we  may  safely  trust  the  issue  to  him,  without  per 
plexing  ourselves  to  seek  for  that  which  is  beyond  the  human  ken, 
only  taking  care  to  perform  the  parts  assigned  us  in  a  way  that 
reason  and  our  own  consciences  approve  of. 

All  our  late  accounts  from  Europe  hold  up  the  expectation  of  a 
general  war  in  th'at  quarter.  For  the  sake  of  humanity  I  hope 
such  an  event  will  not  take  place :  but  if  it  should,  I  trust  that  we 
shall  have  too  just  a  sense  of  our  own  interest  to  originate  any 
cause  that  may  involve  us  in  it — and  I  ardently  wish  we  may  not 
be  forced  into  it  by  the  conduct  of  other  nations.  If  we  are  per 
mitted  to  improve,  without  interruption,  the  great  advantages 
which  nature  and  circumstances  have  placed  within  our  reach, 
many  years  will  not  revolve  before  we  may  be  ranked  not  only 
among  the  most  respectable,  but  among  the  happiest  people  on 
this  globe. 

Our  advances  to  these  points  are  more  rapid  than  the  most  san 
guine  among  us  ever  predicted.  A  spirit  of  improvement  dis 
plays  itself  in  every  quarter,  and  principally  in  objects  of  the 
greatest  public  utility;  such  as  opening  the  inland  navigation, 
which  is  extensive  and  various  beyond  conception ;  improving  the 
old  roads,  and  opening  new  ones ;  building  bridges  and  houses ; 
and,  in  short,  pursuing  those  things  which  seem  eminently  cal 
culated  to  promote  the  advantage  and  accommodation  of  the  peo- 


APPENDIX.  389 

pie  at  large.  Besides  these,  the  enterprizes  of  individuals  show 
at  once  what  are  the  happy  effects  of  personal  exertions  in  a 
country  where  equal  laws  and  equal  rights  prevail. 

For  myself,  you  see  me  again  entering  upon  the  arduous  duties 
of  an  important  office,*  to  which  the  unanimous  voice  of  my 
country  has  once  more  called  me.  To  you,  who  know  my  love 
of  retirement  and  domestic  life,  it  is  unnecessary  to  say,  that  in 
accepting  this  re-appointment,  I  relinquish  those  personal  enjoy 
ments  to  which  I  am  peculiarly  attached.  The  motives  which 
induced  my  acceptance  are  the  same  which  have  ever  ruled  my 
decision  when  the  public  desire,  or,  as  my  countrymen  are  pleased 
to  denominate  it,  good,  was  placed  in  the  scale  against  my  per 
sonal  enjoyment  or  interest ;  the  latter  I  have  ever  considered  as 
subservient  to  the  former ;  and,  perhaps  in  no  instance  of  my  life 
have  I  ever  been  more  sensible  of  the  sacrifice  than  in-  the  pre 
sent;  for,  at  my  age,  the  love  of  retirement  grows  every  day  more 
and  more  powerful ;  and  the  death  of  my  nephew,  the  poor  Major, 
will,  I  apprehend,  cause  my  private  concerns  to  suffer  very  much. 
This  melancholy  event  took  place  on  the  5th  of  last  month,  at 
Colonel  Bassett's,  where  he  had  gone,  hoping  to  benefit  from  a 
change  of  air  and  situation.  Although  it  had  been  long  expected, 
and,  indeed,  to  me,  of  late,  appeared  inevitable,  yet  I  have  felt 
it  very  keenly. 

You  will  receive  from  Mr.  Jefferson  every  official  communica 
tion  necessary  for  your  conduct,  together  with  the  laws,  public 
papers,  &c.  He  will  also  inform  you,  that  the  steps  which  you 
took,  in  consequence  of  Mr.  Barclay's  death,  met  my  entire  ap 
probation. 

I  set  out  with  intimating  that  my  letter  would  be  very  short; 
but,  upon  looking  back,  I  find  it  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  that 
fault ;  but  least  it  should  partake  of  another  at  least  as  bad,  I  shall 
close  it,  with  assuring  you,  that  you  have  the  best  wishes  for  your 
health  and  happiness  of  your  sincere  friend  and  affectionate 
servant, 

GEO.  WASHINGTON. 


*  Elected  President  of  the  United  States  a  second  time. 


(    390     ) 

LETTER  IV. 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON,  President  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  to  DAVID  HUMPHREYS,  Minister  of  the  United 
States  of  America  at  Lisbon. 

Philadelphia ,  V2th  June,  1796. 
MY  DEAR  HUMPHREYS, 

1  COULD  not  suffer  Captain  O'Brien  to  return  without  carrying 
along  with  him  a  testimony  of  my  continued  friendship  and  regard 
for  you,  in  a  few  lines ;  in  the  diction  of  which  I  must  be  con 
cise  ;  for  a  long;  and  interesting  session  of  Congress,  which  only 
closed  on  the  first  instant,  and  many  laws  which  require  imme 
diate  attention  and  execution,  added  to  a  preparation  for  a  jour 
ney  to  Mount-Vernon  (to-morrow),  for  a  little  relaxation  from  the 
unpleasant  scenes  which  have  been,  and  are  continually  present 
ing  themselves  to  my  view,  will  not,  however  well  disposed  I 
might  otherwise  be,  permit  me  to  be  profuse  in  my  declaration. 

From  the  Office  of  State  you  will  receive  every  thing  that  re 
lates  to  public  concerns ;  and  the  gazettes,  which  I  presume  will 
accompany  the  dispatches,  will  give  you  a  pretty  good  idea  of 
the  state  of  politics  and  parties  in  this  country ;  and  will  show  you, 
at  the  same  time,  (if  Bache's  Aurora  is  among  them)  in  what 
manner  I  am  attacked  for  persevering  steadily  in  measures 
which  to  me  appear  necessary  to  preserve  us  (during  the  conflicts 
of  the  belligerent  powers)  in  a  state  of  tranquillity.  But  these 
attacks,  unjust  and  as  unpleasant  as  they  are,  will  occasion  no 
change  in  my  conduct ;  nor  will  they  produce  any  other  effect  in 
my  mind  than  to  increase  the  solicitude  which  long  since  has  taken 
fast  hold  of  my  breast,  to  enjoy,  in  the  shades  of  retirement,  the 
consolation  of  believing  that  I  have  rendered  my  country  every 
service  to  which  my  abilities  were  competent — not  from  pecuniary 
or  ambitious  motives,  nor  for  a  desire  to  provide  for  any  one  far 
ther  than  their  intrinsic  merit  entitled  them  to;  and  surely  not 
with  a  view  to  bring  any  of  my  own  relations  into  office. 

Malignity,  therefore,  may  dart  its  shafts  ;  but  no  earthly  power 
can  deprive  me  of  the  consolation  of  knotting,  that  I  have  not, 
in  the  whole  course  of  my  administration,  however  numerous 
they  may  have  been,  committed  an  intentional  error. 

Whenever  you  shall  think,  with  the  poet  or  philosopher,  "  that 
the  post  of  honour  is  a  private  station,"  and  may  be  disposed  to 
enjoy  yourself  in  my  shades — I  do  not  mean  the  shades  below, 
•where,  if  you  put  it  off  long,  I  may  be  reclining,  I  can  only  re- 


APPENDIX.  391 

peat,  that  you  will  meet  with  the  same  cordial  reception  at  Mount- 
Vernon  that  you  have  always  found  at  that  place ;  and  that  I  am, 
and  always  shall  be, 

Your  sincere  friend, 

And  affectionate  servant, 

GEO.  WASHINGTON. 

P.  S.  Mrs.  Washington,  who  keeps  her  health  as  well  as  usual, 
presents  her  best  wishes  to  you.  Betsy  Custis  is  married  to  Mr. 
Law  (who  was,  I  believe,  in  this  country  when  you  were  here  last), 
an  English  gentleman,  but  last  from  the  East-Indies,  of  consider 
able  fortune,  and  lives  in  the  federal  city.  Patty  you  know  was 
married  ere  you  left  us,  to  Mr.  Peters.  Nelly  has  spent  the  last 
winter  with  her  mother.  Washington  grows  fast ;  and  we  have 
just  heard  that  all  Dr.  Stuart's  family  are  well. 


LETTER  V. 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON,  President  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  to  DAVID  HUMPHREYS,  Minister  Plenipotentiary 
of  the  United  States  of  America  in  Spain. 

Mount-Vernon,  26th  June,  179?. 
MY  DEAR  HUMPHREYS, 

OlNCE  I  did  myself  the  pleasure  of  writing  to  you  by  Captain 
O'Brien,  I  have  been  favoured  with  your  letters  of  the  1st  of 
January  and  18th  of  February.  The  last  in  date  was  the  first 
received ;  but  neither  came  to  hand  until  long  after  I  had  left  the 
chair  of  government,  and  was  seated  in  the  shade  of  my  own 
vine  and  fig-tree. 

The  testimony  of  your  politeness  and  friendship  to  Mrs.  Wash 
ington  and  myself,  which  accompanied  the  latter,  are  accepted 
with  the  same  cordiality  and  cheerfulness  with  which  I  am  sure 
they  were  presented.  Presents,  however,  to  me  are  of  all  things 
the  most  painful ;  but,  when  I  am  so  well  satisfied  of  the  motives 
which  dictated  your's,  my  scruples  are  removed ;  and  I  receive 
the  buckles  (which  are  indeed  very  elegant)  as  a  token  of  your 
regard  and  attachment,  and  will  keep,  and  wear  them  occasion 
ally,  for  your  sake. 

As  the  gazettes  of  this  country  are  transmitted  from  the  De 
partment  of  State  to  all  our  diplomatic  characters  abroad,  you 
will,  of  course,  have  perceived  that  the  measure  advised  by  you, 


392  APPENDIX. 

relative  to  the  disavowal  of  the  forged  letters,  attempted  to  be  im-* 
posed  on  the  public  as  written  by  me  in  1776,  had  been  previously 
adopted,  without  any  of  the  accompanyments  contained  in  youv 
draughts,  which  was  received  long  after  the  publication  of  it. 

I  am  clearly  in  Sentiment  with  you,  that  every  man  who  is  in 
the  vigour  of  life,  ought  to  serve  his  country  in  whatsoever  line 
it  requires,  and  he  is  fit  for;  it  was  not  my  intention,  therefore, 
to  persuade  you  to  withdraw  your  services,  whilst  inclination  and 
the  calls  of  your  country  demanded  your  services ;  but  the  desire 
of  a  companion,  in  my  latter  days,  in  whom  I  could  confide,  might 
have  induced  me  to  express  myself  too  strongly  on  the  occasion. 
The  change,  however,  which  I  presume  has  ere  this  taken  place 
in  your  domestic  concerns,  would  of  itself  have  annihilated  every 
hope  of  having  you  as  an  inmate,  if  the  circumstance  had  been 
known  at  the  time. 

On  this  event,  which  I  persuade  myself  will  be  fortunate  and 
happy  for  you,  I  offer  my  congratulations  with  all  the  sincerity  and 
warmth  you  can  desire ;  and  if  ever  you  should  bring  Mrs.  Hum 
phreys  to  the  United  States,  no  roof  will  afford  her  and  you  a  more 
welcome  reception  than  this,  while  we  are  the  inhabitants  of  it. 

To  the  Department  of  State,  and  the  gazettes  which  will  be 
transmitted  from  thence,  I  shall  refer  you  for  the  political  state 
of  our  affairs ;  but  in  one  word  I  might  have  added,  that  nothing 
Short  of  a  general  peace  in  Europe  will  produce  tranquillity  in  this 
country,  for  reasons  which  are  obvious  to  every  well-informed 
or  observant  man  among  us. 

I  have  a  confidence,  however,  in  that  Providence  which  has 
shielded  the  United  States  from  the  evils  which  have  threatened 
them  hitherto ;  and  as  I  believe  the  major  part  of  the  people  of 
this  country  are  well  affected  to  the  constitution  and  government 
of  it,  I  rest  satisfied,  that  if  ever  a  crisis  should  arise  to  call 
forth  the  sense  of  the  community,  it  will  be  strong  in  support  of 
the  honour  and  dignity  of  the  nation.  Therefore,  however  much 
I  regret  the  opposition  which  has  for  its  object  the  embarrassment 
of  the  administration,  I  shall  view  things  in  the  "  calm  light  of 
mild  philosophy,"  and  endeavour  to  finish  my  course  in  retirement 
and  ease. 

An  absence  from  home  of  eight  years,  except  short  occasional 
visits  to  it,  which  allowed  no  time  to  investigate  or  look  into  the 
real  state  of  my  private  concerns,  has  very  much  deranged  them, 
and  occasioned  such  depredations  upon  buildings,  and  all  things 
around  them,  as  to  make  the  expense  of  repairs  almost  as  great, 
and  the  employment  of  attending  to  workmen  almost  as  much,  as 
if  I  had  commenced  an  entire  new  establishment. 


APPENDIX.  39? 

The  public  buildings  in  the  Federal  city  go  on  well.  One  wing 
of  the  Capitol  (with  which  Congress  might  make  a  very  good 
shift)  and  the  President's  house  will  be  covered  in  this  autumn ; 
or,  to  speak  more  correctly,  perhaps  the  latter  is  nova  receiving 
its  cover,  and  the  former  will  be  ready  for  it  by  that  epoch.  An 
elegant  bridge  is  thrown  over  the  Potowmack  at  the  Little  Falls, 
and  the  navigation  of  the  river  above  it  will  be  completed,  nearly, 
this  season ;  through  which  an  immensity  of  produce  must  flow  to 
the  shipping  ports  thereon.  Alexandria  you  would  scarcely  know, 
so  much  has  it  increased  since  you  was  there ;  two  entire  streets, 
where  shallops  then  laded  and  unladed,  are  extended  into  the 
river,  and  some  of  the  best  buildings  in  the  town  erected  on  them. 
What  were  the  commons  are  now  all  enclosed,  and  many  good 
houses  placed  on  them.  As  my  circle  is  now  small,  my  information 
will  be,  of  course,  contracted,  as  Alexandria  and  the  Federal  City 
will  probably  be  the  extent  of  my  perambulations.  If  you  have 
entered  the  matrimonial  list,  I  pray  you  to  present  me  in  respectful 
terms  to  your  lady,  and  at  all  times,  and  under  all  circumstances, 
that  you  would  believe  me  to  be,  as  I  really  am, 
My  dear  Sir, 
Your  most  obedient  and  affectionate  servant, 

GEO.  WASHINGTON. 

P.  S.  The  seal  of  this  letter  being  black,  is  occasioned  by  the 
death  of  my  only  sister,  Mrs.  Lewis,  late  of  Fredericksburgh. 


CONSULATE. 

Order  of  the  day  for  the  Consular  Guard  and  all  the  Troofii  of 
the  Republic. 

WASHINGTON  is  no  more.  That  great  man  fought  against 
tyranny.  He  firmly  established  the  liberty  of  his  country.  His 
memory  will  be  ever  dear  to  the  French  people,  as  it  must  be  to 
every  friend  of  freedom  in  the  two  worlds;  and  especially  to  the 
French  soldiers,  who,  like  him  and  the  Americans,  bravely  fight 
for  liberty. 

The  First  Consul,  in  consequence,  orders,  that  for  ten  days 
black  crapes  shall  be  suspended  from  all  the  standards  and  flags 
of  the  Republic. 

Paris,  23d  Pluviose. 

3F. 


(     394    ) 

By  the  United  States  in  Congress  assembled,  Nov.  7th,  1781. 

rv  ESOLVED,  that  an  elegant  sword  be  presented,  in  the  name 
of  the  United  States  in  Congress  assembled,  to  Colonel  Hum 
phreys,  Aid-de-Camp  to  General  Washington,  to  whose  care  the 
standards,  taken  under  the  capitulation  of  York,  were  committed, 
as  a  testimony  of  their  opinion  of  his  fidelity  and  ability;  and 
that  the  Board  of  War  take  order  therein. 

Extract  from  the  Minutes* 

CHA.  THOMPSON,  Secretary. 


THE  END. 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


-H-IS  Catholic  Majesty. 

Her  Catholic  Majesty. 

Thomas  Jefferson,  President  of  the  United  States. 

John  Adams,  late  President  of  the  United  States. 

Duke  of  Alafoens,  Commander  in  Chief  of  the  forces  of  Portu 
gal,  Lisbon. 

Chevalier  de  Adlerberg,  Charge  des  Affairs  of  his  Sw-ed4s>h  Ma 
jesty,  Madrid. 

M.  de  Aguirre  and  Sons,  merchants,  Madrid,  £  copies. 

Don  Zenon  Alonzo,  First  Officer  of  the  Department  of  Grace 
and  Justice,  Madrid. 

David  Austin,  New-Haven,  Connecticut. 

Edmond  Antrobus,  Esq.  No.  9  New-Street,  Spring-Gardens, 
London. 

The  Hon.  John  Allen,  Esq.  Lichfield,  Connecticut. 

The  Hon.  Aaron  Austin,  Esq.  New-Hartford,  Connecticut. 

Thomas  C.  Amory,  Esq.  Boston. 

John  A  very,  Esq.  Secretary  of  State,  Massachusetts, 

Samuel  Armour,  Windham,  New-Hampshire. 

John  B.  Allen,  Beverly,  Massachusetts. 

Paschal  Allen,  Warren,  Rhode-Island. 

Jeremiah  Allen,  Esq.  Boston. 

Rufus  G.  Amory,  Esq.  Boston. 

James  Adams,  Roxbury. 

Samuel  Abbot,  Boston. 

John  Basset,  Oxford,  Connecticut. 

Solomon  Babson,  Boston. 

I.  Cox  Barnet,  Commercial  Agent  of  the  United  States,  Boiv 
deaux,  4  copies. 

Dr.  Philip  Bausa,  of  the  Royal  Typographical  Laboratory,  Madrid, 

Isaac  Beers  and  Co.  booksellers,  New -Haven,  6  copies. 

Nathan  Beers,  merchant,  New-Haven. 

Francis  Xavier  Van  Baumberghen,  Inspector  of  Roads,  Madrid, 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 

Bernard  de  Clamous  Brown,  Esq.  Consul  of  the  United  States, 

Oporto,  12  copies. 
Henry  Brown,  Norfolk,  Virginia. 
Webster  Brown,  New-York. 
Arthur  Breeze,  Esq.  Whitestown,  New-York. 
Lazarus  Beach,  printer,  Newfield,  Connecticut. 
William  Beard,  Derby,  Connecticut. 
James  R.  Benson,  Esq.  merchant,  Gibraltar. 
Dr.  Augustin  de  Betancourt,  Director-General  of  Posts  and  Roads 

in  Spain,  Madrid,  2  copies. 
Mathew  Barton,  Esq.  Lancaster,  Pennsylvania. 
Hon.  Jonathan  Brace,  Hartford,  Connecticut. 
The  Count  of  Beaujolois,  London. 
Jesse  Beach,  Attorney  at  Law,  Derby,  Connecticut. 
Jared  Bartholomew,  Derby,  Connecticut. 
George  Bloom,  Yale-College, 
Rufus  Bigelow,  Boston. 
Clement  Biddle,  Esq.  Philadelphia. 
David  Bird,  Esq.  Troy. 
Nicolas  de  Broval,  citizen  of  Paris. 
Joseph  Bryan,  Esq.  Savannah,  2  copies. 
John  Bulkeley,  Esq.  Lisbon,  12  copies, 
David  Barwell,  Derby,  Connecticut. 
Jeremiah  Bumstead,  jun.  Boston. 
William  H.  Boardman,  Boston. 
John  Belknap,  Boston. 
Adam  Babcock,  Esq.  Boston. 
William  Bicknell,  Boston. 
Enoch  Baldwin,  Boston. 
Benjamin  Bussey,  Boston. 
Josiah  Bradlee,  Boston. 
Ebenezer  Billings,  Boston. 
Seth  Bass,  Boston. 

Hon.  Elijah  Brigham,  Esq.  Worcester  County,  Massachusetts, 
Alden  Bradford,  Esq.  Wiscasset,  Maine. 
D.  N.  M.  Burr,  Warren,  Rhode-Island. 
Wyllis  Brunson,  Mendon,  Massachusetts. 
William  Breed,  Esq.  Boston. 
Henry  Bigelow,  Boston, 
John  Bacon,  Boston. 

Abraham  Carpenter,  Esq.  Lancaster,  Pennsylvania, 
Thomas  Gary,  junior,  Newbury-Port,  Massachusetts, 
Nath.  Carver,  Plymouth,  Massachusetts. 
O,  Champlain,  Bordeaux, 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 

John  Comyn,  Malaga. 

M.  Comyn,  sworn  interpreter,  Bordeaux. 

Daniel  P.  Colesworthy,  Boston.    - 

Israel  G.  Collins,  Charleston,  South-Carolina. 

Joseph  Conkling,  Cadiz. 

Rev.  Thomas  Connelly,  Confessor  of  the  Royal  Family  of  Spain, 

Madrid. 

Michael  Crooke,  merchant,  Malaga. 
The  Bayley  Fr.  D.  Marians  Cascajares,  Knight  of  the  Order  of 

St.  John,  Madrid. 
Don  Christobal  Cladera,  Dignetory  of  the  Church  of  Mallorca, 

Knight  of  the  Order  of  Christ,  Madrid. 
Thomas  Coutts,  Esq.  Strand,  London. 
Dr.  Edward  Crafts,  Derby,  Connecticut. 
Sheldon  Curtis,  Derby,  Connecticut. 
Isaac  W.  Crane,  Esq.  New-Brunswick,  New-Jersey. 
George  W.  P.  Custis,  Esq.  Mount  Washington. 
I.  Cook  and  Co.  booksellers,  New  Haven,  Connecticut,  6  Copies. 
Hon.  David  Cobb,  Esq.  President  of  the  Senate  of  Massachusetts, 

2  copies. 
Hon.  Richard  Cutts,  Esq.  Member  of  Congress,  Pepperelborough, 

Maine. 

Hon.  M.  Cutler,  Esq.  Member  of  Congress,  Hamilton,  Massa 
chusetts. 
Hon.  Jacob  Crowninshield,  Esq.   Member  of  Congress,  Salem, 

Massachusetts,  2  copies. 
Hon.  Isaac  Coffin,  Nantucket. 
Benjamin  Coffin,  2d.  Nantucket. 
Joseph  Gushing,  Amherst,  New-Hampshire. 
Philip  Carrigain,  jun.  Esq.  Concord,  New-Hampshire. 
Henry  Carrington,  Middletown,  Connecticut. 
Stephen  Clay,  Middletown,  Connecticut. 
Charles  Cutter,  Cambridge,  Massachusetts. 
John  Croade,  Warren,  Rhode-Island. 
John  T.  Child,  Warren,  Rhode-Island. 
Cornelius  Coolidge,  Boston. 
Allen  Crocker,  Esq.  Boston. 
John  Cunningham,  Boston. 
Joseph  Coolidge,  Esq.  Boston. 
Stephen  Codman,  Boston. 
Joseph  Chapman,  Esq.  Boston. 
Humphrey  Clark,  Boston. 
Jonathan  Chapman,  Boston. 
Elihu  Daggct,  New-Haven,  Connecticut, 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 

Chauncey  Dagget,  New-Haven,  Connecticut. 

The  Hon.  David  Dagget,  New-Haven,  Connecticut. 

Naphtali  Dagget,  New-Haven,  Connecticut. 

Rev.  Daniel  Dana,  Newbury-Port,  Massachusetts. 

A.  J.  Dallas,  Esq.  Attorney-General  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadel 
phia. 

John  H.  Deforest,  New-Haven,  Connecticut. 

Joseph  Davis,  Esq.  Derby,  Connecticut. 

Jesse  Dewees,  Bordeaux. 

P.  F.  Dobrec,  Commercial  Agent  of  the  United  States,  Nantz, 
2  copies. 

Allen  M'Dowell,  Esq.  Cadiz. 

Amos  Doolittle,  New-Haven. 

Josiah  Dadley,  Esq.  Derby,  Connecticut. 

Lewis  Durand,  Malaga. 

Rev.  T.  Dwight,  D.  D.  President  of  Yale-College,  New-Haven. 

S.  Durien,  Bordeaux. 

Dutari  and  Brothers,  Madrid. 

John  A.  Davenport,  New-York. 

Hon.  Thomas  Dwight,  Member  of  Congress,  Springfield. 

Hon.  Francis  Dana,  Chief  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Mas 
sachusetts. 

John  Dyson,  Beverly,  Massachusetts. 

Aarcn  Dexter,  M.  D.  Boston. 

Hon.  Daniel  Davis,  Boston. 

W.  Dow,  Boston. 

Charles  Davis,  Boston. 

Jonathan  Davis,  Boston. 

Robert  Dinsmore,  Windham,  New-Hampshire. 

James  Elmesley,  Esq.  Agent  of  his  Swedish  Majesty,  Gibraltar, 
2  copies. 

Thomas  Eldred,  London,  4  copies. 

John  S.  Ellery,  Glocester. 

Rev.  William  Emerson,  Boston. 

Rev.  John  Eliot,  D.  D.  Boston. 

James  Eunson,  jun.  Boston. 

Sherman  Everest,  Esq.  Haddam,  Connecticut. 

John  M.  Forbes,  Esq.  Bordeaux. 

Francis  French,  Derby,  Connecticut. 

Joseph  French,  Derby,  Connecticut. 

His  Excellency  the  Commander,  Cyp.  de  Freyre,  Minister  Ple 
nipotentiary  of  Portugal  at  Madrid. 

Andrew  Frothingham,  Newbury-Port,  Massachusetts. 

Converse  Francis,  Meciford,  Massachusetts. 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 

Isaac  Flagg,  Beverly,  Massachusetts. 

Jeremiah  Foster,  Beverly,  Massachusetts. 

Thomas  Foster,  jun.  Boston. 

Fosdick  and  Procter,  Boston. 

John  Gadsden,  Yale  Coljege. 

John  Galway,   Esq.   Captaia  of  the  coast  regiment  of  cavalry, 

Malaga. 

John  Gavins,  Consul  of  the  United  States  at  Gibraltar,  6  copies. 
Peter  Gilman  Esq.  Boston,  2  copies. 
Thomas  Gifford,  New-Bedford. 
Dominic  k  Grana,  Malaga. 
Sir  Henry  Grivegnee,  Malaga. 
Henry  Grivegnee,  junior,  Esq.  Malaga. 
John  Grecnleaf,  Newbury-Port,  Massachusetts. 
Thomas  Gregory,  Esq.  his  Britannic  Majesty's  Agent-General  for 

Prisoners,  Madrid. 

Phribert  Guellot,  merchant,  Bordeaux. 
Rev.  Dr.  Gordon,  Madrid. 
John  Gibson,  Philadelphia. 
John  Graham,    Esq.    Secretary  of  the  Legation  of  the  United 

States  at  Madrid. 

The  Hon.  Chauncey  Goodrich,  Hartford,  Connecticut. 
Francis  Gurney,  Esq.  Philadelphia. 
Archibald  Gracie,  merchant,  New-York. 
John  Lyon  Gardiner,  Esq,  Isle  of  Wight. 
Dr.  Roland  Gelston,  Nantucket. 
Charles  Gardner,  Nantucket. 
Samuel  Goodridge,  Beverly,  Massachusetts. 
Nicholas  Gilman,  Boston. 
Julia  de  Trebolet  Hardy,  Madrid. 
David  Hawkins,  Derby,  Connecticut. 
J.  N.  M.  Hurd,  Derby,  Connecticut. 
Daniel  Holbrook,  Derby,  Connecticut. 
John  Hoibrook,   Brattkborough,  Vermont. 
John  Humphreys,  junior,  Esq.  Derby,  Connecticut.  2  copies. 
Edward  Humphreys,  Gibraltar. 
John  Higgins,  Boston,  2  copies. 
Thomas  Hayes. 

Harry  Hale,  Esq.  Birchin-lane,  London. 
Gardner  Hammond,  Boston,  2  copies. 
Rev.  Thomas  Higgins,  Confessor  of  the  Family  of  his  Catholic 

Majesty.,  Madrid. 

Benjamin  Homans,  Eoq.  Bordeaux. 
William  Huelin,  Malaga. 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 

Jed.  Huntington,  New-London,  Connecticut. 

—  Herman,  Secretary  of  the  Embassy  of  France,  Madrid,  2  copies. 

Rev.  Herbt.  Hill,  Chaplain  to  the  British  Factory  at  Lisbon,  2 
copies. 

John  HilV  New-Brunswick,  New-Jersey. 

Moses  Hatch,  Yale  College. 

John  P.  Hampton,  Yale  College. 

Horace  Holley,  Yale-College. 

Samuel  Hubbard,  New-Haven,  Connecticut. 

Nathaniel  Holbrook,  Derby,  Connecticut. 

Joseph  Hull,  Esq.  Huntington,  Connecticut. 

Hon.  Benjamin  Huger,  Member  of  Congress,  Charleston,  South- 
Carolina. 

Rev.  Abiel  Holmes,  Cambridge,  Massachusetts. 

Richard  Hunewell,  Esq.  Portland,  Maine. 

Thomas  Hobby,  Middletown,  Connecticut. 

Nehemiah  Hubbard,  jun.  Middletown,  Connecticut. 

John  Hinsdale,  Middletown,  Connecticut. 

Jared  Ingersoll,  Esq.  Philadelphia. 

Jonathan  Ingersoll,  Esq.  New-Haven, 

Daniel  Ingalls,  Boston. 

Joseph  James,  London. 

Benjamin  James,  London. 

William  Jarvis,  Boston,  2  copies. 

Jonathan  Jones,  Bordeaux. 

Joaguin,  Military  Surgeon  at  Villalba. 

Joseph  Izwardy,  Consul  of  the  United  States  at  Cadiz,  20  copies. 

Hon.  John  C.  Jones,  Boston. 

Benjamin  Joy,  Boston. 

Ebenezer  Jones,  Boston. 

Levi  Jackson,  Chesterfield,  New-Hampshire. 

Abial  Jaques,  Wilmington,  Massachusetts. 

EJeazer  A.  Jenks,  Portland,  Maine. 

Thomas  Kearney,  Master  of  Languages  of  the  pages  of  his  Ca 
tholic  Majesty. 

William  Kirkpatrick,  Consul  of  the  United  States  at  Malaga,  2 
copies. 

Lemuel  Kollock,  M.  D.  Savannah,  2  copies. 

Rev.  John  T.  Kirkland,  D.  D.  Boston. 

William  King,  Boston. 

Abner  Kingman,  Warren,  Rhode-Island. 

Ruel  Keith,  Newport,  New-Hampshire. 

Nicholas  Lewis  Koops,  Esq.  Batavian  Consul  at  Malaga. 

T.  A.  Kanfrou,  his  Swedish  Majesty's  Agent  at  Lisbon. 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 

Nathaniel  King,  Hamilton,  Chenango  County,  New- York. 

Rev.  Isaac  S.  Keith,  Charleston,  South-Carolina. 

Jonathan  W.  Kellog,  Yale  College. 

Arthur  Kinder,  merchant,  New-York. 

Anthony  Lopez,  Esq.  Lisbon,  20  copies. 

Francis  Lightbourne,  Charleston,  South-Carolina,  2  copies. 

I.  Loring,  Esq.  Bordeaux. 

Bernard  Lacoste,  Esq.  merchant,  Cadiz. 

Thomas  and  Henry  Lynch  and  Co.  Cadiz. 

John  Longden,   Esq.   Counsellor  of  Commerce  of  his  Prussian 
Majesty  at  Alicant. 

Ethil  Lounsbury,  Oxford,  Connecticut. 

Hezekiah  Lounsbury,  Woodbridge,  Connecticut. 

Jonathan  H.  Lyman,  New-Haven. 

Hon.  Thomas  Lowndes,  Member  of  Congress,  Charleston,  South-,. 
Carolina. 

William  Lambert,  Roxbury,  Massachusetts. 

Thaddeus  Leavitt,  Suffield,  Connecticut. 

Theodore  Lyman,  Esq.  Boston. 

Jonathan  Loring,  Boston, 

Thomas  Mumford,  Scipio,  New- York. 

William  Mansfield,  Derby,  Connecticut. 

Duke  of  Montpersier,  London. 

Earl  of  Moira,  St.  James'  Place,  London. 

His  Excellency  Thomas  M'Kean,  Governor  of  the  State  of  Penn 
sylvania. 

Timothy  Macnamara,  Esq.  merchant,  Malaga. 

J.  B.  Millet,  Paris. 

Edward  Hardy  Markland,  Esq.  Madrid. 

Richard  E.  Meade,  M.  D.  Richmond,  Virginia,  2  copies, 

Andrew  Mather,  New-York. 

John  de  Menville,  Esq.  merchant,  Malaga. 

David  Meredith,  Philadelphia. 

Charles  Morgan,  Charleston,  South-Carolina. 

John  Morphy,  Esq.  Cadiz. 

Robert  Montgomery,  Esq.  Consul  of  the  United  States  at  Alicant. 

Hugh  Maccaughey,  Esq.  Baltimore. 

Count  de  Moltke,  Charge  des  Affairs  of  his  Danish  Majesty  at 
the  Court  of  Spain,  Copenhagen,  2  copies. 

Marchioness  de  Mos,  Madrid. 

James  Morrison,  Esq.  Philadelphia. 

Edward  Majoribanks,  Esq.  Ade'phi,  London. 

Hon.  Thomas  Morris,  Ontario  County,  New-York. 

Thomas  Mumford,  Cayuga  County,  New-York. 

3F 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 

Rev.  Jedidiah  Morse,  D.  D.  Charlestown,  Massachusetts. 

Josiah  Masters,  Esq.  Scaticoke,  New- York. 

William  Maxwell,  New-Haven. 

Isaac  Mills,  Esq.  New-Haven. 

Jonathan  Moseley,  New-Haven. 

Jacob  Morton,  Esq.  New-York. 

Benjamin  I.  Moore,  merchant,  New-York. 

Hon.  Jonathan  Mason,  Boston. 

John  May,  Esq.  Boston. 

Samuel  May,  Esq.  Boston. 

Thomas  Marshall,  Boston. 

Samuel  Morrison,  Windham,  New-Hampshire. 

Benjamin  Mead,  Wiscasset,  Maine. 

James  Neill,  New-York,  2  copies. 

W.  H.  van  Nieuwerkerke,  Charge  des  Affairs  of  the  Bataviaij 
Republic,  Madrid. 

Henry  Neumann,  Esq.  merchant,  Malaga. 

John  Neilson,  Esq.  New-Brunswick,  New-Jersey. 

James  O'Connor,  Esq.  merchant,  Madrid,  12  copies. 

Patrick  O'Connor,  Esq.  merchant,  Cadiz. 

John  O'Connor,  New-York. 

Christopher  O'Connor,  Philadelphia. 

Lewis  M.  O'Brien,  Consul  of  the  United  States  at  Santander,  10 
copies. 

Don  Thomas  O'Ryan,  Chaplain  of  honour  to  his  Catholic  Majesty, 
Chevalier  of  the  order  of  Charles  III. 

The  Duke  of  Orleans,  London. 

Hon.  Harrison  G.  Otis,  Esq.  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Repre 
sentatives  of  Massachusetts,  Boston. 

Francis  J.  Oliver,  Esq.  Boston. 

Hon.  William  Paterson,  Esq.  New-Brunswick,  New-Jersey. 

Hon.  I.  Pearson,  Darby,  Delaware  County,  Pennsylvania. 

John  Partridge,  sen.  Esq.  London. 

John  Partridge,  jun.  London. 

Mary  Anne  Partridge,  London. 

Nicholas  Plinck,  merchant,  Malaga. 

Victor  du  Pont,  Esq.  merchant,  New -York. 

James  Power,  merchant,  Malaga. 

William  Power  and  Co.  Cadiz. 

Joseph  Prendergast,  Cadiz. 

John  Perkins,  Philadelphia.  . 

Jesse  Putnam,  Bordeaux. 

Hon.  Charles  Piuckney,  Minister  Plenipotentiary  at  Madrid. 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 

Dr.  Manuel  Salabert,  Comte  of  O'Phaly,  Gentleman  of  the  King 

of  Etruria,  Madrid. 
Henry  Post,  jun.  merchant,  New-York. 
Paul  Post,  New-York. 

T.  W.  Persch,  Secretary  of  the  Legation  of  Sazonia  at  Madrid. 
Rev.  Amasa  Porter,  Derby,  Connecticut. 
Rev.  Elijah  Parish,  Newbury,  Massachusetts. 
John  Pool,  New-Brunswick,  New-Jersey. 
John  Pierpbnt,  Yale  College, 
James  Palacios,  Madrid. 
Charles  H.  Pond,  Yale  College. 
Frederick  Philips,  Esq.  New- York. 
Edward  Preble,  Esq.  Boston. 
William  Powell,  Esq.  Boston. 
Rev.  Samuel  Parker,  D.  D.  Boston. 
Benjamin  Douglas  Perkins,  New-York. 
Thomas  Perkins,  Esq.  Boston. 
Ebenezer  Preble,  Boston. 
John  H.  Payne,  Boston. 
Andrew  Peirce,  Dover,  New-Hampshire. 
Samuel  W.  Pomroy,  Esq.  Cambridge,  Massachusetts. 
Nathaniel  Phillips,  Warren,  Rhode-Island. 
John  Prentiss,  Keene,  New-Hampshire,  2  copies. 
Samuel  Page,  Danvers. 
Enoch  Preble,  Portland. 
Henry  Preble,  Portland. 
John  Page,  jun.  Beverly,  Massachusetts. 
Linns  Parmelee,  Jan.  Haddam,  Connecticut. 
Daniel  M.  Prince,  Roxbury,  Massachusetts. 
Edward  P.  Quesnel,  Madrid. 
Thomas   Quilty,    Esq.    President  of  the  Court  of  Consttlate  of 

Malaga. 

James  Quilty,  Esq.  merchant,  Malaga. 
Hon.  Josiah  Quincy,  Esq.  Boston, 
John  Remmey,  New-York. 
Paul  Ray,  Nantucket. 
Benjamin  Rice,  New-York. 
John  William  Rein,  merchant,  Malaga. 
John  Roose,  Esq.  Prussian  Consul  at  Malaga. 
The  Comte  de  Rohde,  Envoy  Extraordinary  and  Minister  Pleni* 

potentiary  of  the  King  of  Prussia  at  Madrid. 
T.  Ross,  Esq.  Philadelphia. 
Joseph  Riggs,  Derby,  Connecticut. 
William  Ilobinson,  merchant,  New- York,  2  copies. 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES, 

Thomas  Rich,  Derby,  Connecticut. 

Thomas  Robbins,  Norfolk,  Connecticut. 

John  Rodman,   merchant,  New-York. 

Richard  Rogers,  Esq.  New-York. 

B.  W.  Rogers,  merchant,  New-York. 

Daniel  D.  Rogers,  Esq.  Boston. 

James  Robinson,  Esq.  Boston. 

Rev.  George  Richards,  Portsmouth,  New-Hampshire. 

Susanna  Rowson,  Preceptress  of  the  Young  Ladies'  Academy  at 
Newton,  Massachusetts. 

William  Riddell,  Nantucket. 

Henry  Redfield,  Middletown,  Connecticut. 

Ebenezer  Stocker,  Newbury-Port,  Massachusetts. 

James  Schureman,  Esq.  New-Brunswick,  New-Jersey. 

Miles  Smith,  New-Brunswick,  New-Jersey. 

Stephen  Stone,  merchant,  Derby,  Connecticut. 

Hon.  Benjamin  Say,  Philadelphia. 

Duncan  Shaw,  Cadiz. 

George  Shipton,  Cadiz. 

Richard  Sheil,  Esq.  Cadiz. 

John  Smith,  Esq.  merchant,  Gibraltar. 

Charles  L.  Snow,  Boston. 

Richard  Stephens,  Baltimore. 

Strang  and  Co.  Cadiz. 

Baron  Shubart,  Envoy  Extraordinary  and  Minister  Plenipoten 
tiary  of  the  King  of  Denmark  at  Naples. 

Senior  Vincent  Salucci,  Madrid,  2  copies. 

Marquis  de  St.  Andrian  y  de  Santiago,  Madrid. 

Gabriel  de  Sancha,  bookseller,  Madrid,  4  copies. 

John  Skinner,  New-Haven,  Connecticut. 

Hon.  Nathaniel  Smith,  Woodbury,  Connecticut. 

Hon.  John  C.  Smith,  Sharon,  Connecticut. 

William  S.  Smith,  Esq.  New-York. 

Lyman  Stone,  merchant,  Derby,  Connecticut, 

Alpheus  Stone,  Derby,  Connecticut. 

Levi  Stoddard,  Lichfield,  Connecticut, 

William  L.  Strong,  New-Haven. 

George  W.  Strong,  Yale  College, 

Henry  Swift,  Yale  College. 

William  Stuart,  Esq.  Geneva,  New- York. 

David  Stuart,  Esq.  Mount  Washington. 

Thomas  R.  Smith,  New-York. 

Peter  Gerard  Stuyvesant,  Esq.  New-York. 

William  Short;,  New-York, 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 

His  Excellency  Caleb  Strong,  Esq.  Governor  of  Massachusetts. 

Hon.  Theodore  Sedgwick,  Esq.  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of 
Massachusetts. 

Hon.  Simeon  Strong,  Esq.  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Mas 
sachusetts. 

Hon.  Samuel  Sewall,  Esq.  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Mas 
sachusetts. 

Hon.  William  Stedman,  Member  of  Congress,  Lancaster,  Massa 
chusetts. 

Jeremiah  Stickney,  Dover,  New-Hampshire. 

Hon.  Woodbury  Storer,  Esq.  Portland. 

Samuel  Southmayd,  Middletown,  Connecticut. 

Thomas  Stevens,  Beverly,  Massachusetts. 

Jos.  Swasey,  Ipswich,  Massachusetts. 

Thomas  Savage,  Hartford,  Connecticut. 

Isaac  Shaw,  Roxbury,  Massachusetts. 

William  Smith,  Esq.  Boston. 

William  Scollay,  Esq.  Boston. 

Russell  Sturgis,  Esq.  Boston. 

Charles  P.  Sumner,  Esq.  Boston. 

Samuel  Snelling,  Boston. 

William  Story,  Boston. 

Nathaniel  Smith,  Boston. 

James  Sprague,  Boston. 

Samuel  Stratford,  Boston. 

His  Excellency  Jonathan  Trumbull,  Governor  of  the  State  of 
Connecticut. 

Henry  Terry,  Esq.  Enfield,  Connecticut. 

Dominick  Thomas  Terry,  Esq.  Cadiz. 

Anthony  Terry,  Vice-Consul  of  the  United  States  at  Cadiz. 

George  Trenholm,  Charleston,  South- Carolina. 

The  Count  Lally  Tolendal,  White-Hall,  London. 

Edward  Tilghman,  Esq.  Philadelphia. 

Coults  Trotter,  Esq.  No.  46  Berner's-street,  London. 

Matthias  B.  Tallmage,  Herkimer  County,  New- York. 

David  Tomlinson,  Esq.  Oxford,  Connecticut. 

Levi  Tomlinson,  Esq.  Derby,  Connecticut. 

Russel  Tomlinson,  Esq.  Derby,  Connecticut. 

Hon.  George  Thatcher,  Esq.  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of 
Massachusetts. 

Hon.  Samuel  Taggart,  Member  of  Congress,  Colrain,  Massachu 
setts. 

Hon.  Samuel  Thatcher,  Member  of  Congress,  Warren,  Maine. 

Hon.  Samuel  Tenney,  Member  of  Congress,  Exeter,  New- 
Hampshire. 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 

Hon.  William  Tudor,  Boston. 

William  Tudor,  jun.  Boston. 

Joseph  Taylor,  Esq.  Boston. 

Joseph  Tilden,  Boston. 

Nicholas  Thorndike,  Beverly. 

Ebenezer  Torrey,  Lancaster,  Massachusetts. 

William  Torrey,  jun.  Hanover,  Massachusetts. 

His  Excellency  Don  Mariano  Luis  de  Urgueso,  acting  first  Secre 
tary  of  State  of  his  Catholic  Majesty. 

Charles  Vaughan,  Esq.  Madrid,  2  copies. 

Don  Manuel  de  la  Vina,  merchant,  Madrid. 

Hon.  J.  B.  Varnum,  Member  of  Congress,  Dracutt,  Massachu 
setts. 

Solomon  Vose,  Esq.  Northfield,  Massachusetts. 

James  Watson,  Esq.  New-York. 

John  Walsh,  Cadiz. 

John  White,  Esq.  merchant,  Cadiz. 

Joseph  White,  Esq.  Cadiz. 

John  Ward,  sen.  Esq.  London. 

John  Ward,  jun.  London. 

William  Ward,  London. 

Mary  Anne  Ward,  London. 

William  Walker,  Portsmouth,  New-Hampshire. 

Richard  Watson,  Philadelphia. 

John  G.  Williams,  Esq.  Norfolk,  Virginia. 

William  Woodbridge,  Savannah,  Georgia. 

F.  H.  Wollaston,  Esq.  Consul  of  the  United  States  at  Genoa. 

John  Woods,  Esq.  Pittsburgh,  Pennsylvania. 

Samuel  Wyllys,  Esq.  Hartford,  Connecticut. 

C.  R.  and  G.  Webster,  booksellers,  Albany,  New-York. 

Noah  Webster,  jun.  Esq.  New-Haven. 

Rev.  Ezra  Wetter,  Wilbraham,  Massachusetts. 

William  W.  Woolsey,  merchant,  New-York. 

Hon.  Lemuel  Williams,  Member  of  Congress,  New-Bedford, 
Massachusetts. 

William  Otis  Wyer,  Beverly,  Massachusetts. 

Charles  Wheaton,  Esq.  Warren,  Rhode-Island. 

Jacob  Warner,  Medford,  Massachusetts. 

John  Whittlesey,  Saybrook,  Connecticut. 

William  Wait,  Portland, 

John  Warren,  M.  D.  Boston. 

Redford  Webster,  M.  D.  Boston. 

Thomas  L.  Winthrop,  Esq.  Boston,  2  copies* 

Timothy  Williams,  Esq.  Boston. 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 

Arnold  Welles,  Esq.  Boston. 

William  Wetmore,  Esq.  Boston. 

Nathan  Webb,  Boston. 

Moses  Wheeler,  Boston. 

J.  Waters,  jun.  Boston. 

Obadiah  Wright,  Boston. 

Sidney  Williard,  Cambridge,  Massachusetts. 

Moses  Young,  Consul  of  the  United  States  at  Madrid,  12  copies. 

Don  Bernardo  Yriarte,  of  his  Catholic  Majesty's  Council,  Madrid. 

Don  Eugenio  Yzquierdo,  of  the  Council  of  WTar,  and  Director  of 

the  Cabinet  of  Natural  History,  Madrid. 
Francis  de  Zea,  Malaga. 


DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  BINDER. 

Likeness  of  Col.  Humphreys  to  face  the  title-page. 
Plate  representing  the  Medal  to  face  page  357. 


ERRATA. 

Page     9,  line  100,  for  "  award"  read  -ward. 

13,  257,  for  "  fire"  read  sire. 
25,  3,  for  "  happienss"  read  happiness. 

28,  42,  for  "  the"  read  to. 

32,  215,  for  "  array'd"  read  untried. 

38,  450,  for  "  wrapt"  read  rapt. 

65,  572,  for  "  wrapt"  read  rapt. 
71,  35  to  40,  for  two  inverted  commas,   thus  ("  "),  there 

should  be  a  single  one,  thus  ('  '). 
71,  40,  for  "proceed"  read  proceeded. 

110,  522,  for  "  in"  read  of. 

111,  549,  for  "  ear-tinkfing"  read  ear-tingling. 

112,  609,  for  "  sleepy"  read  sleepless. 
135,  331,  for  "  has"  read  bast. 

166,          119,  dele  (')  at  the  end. 

169,          220,  for  "  whirl"  read  whirls.' 

192,  11,  in  a  part  of  the  impression,  for  "  vengeance"  read 

vengeance. 
196,  12  from  the  bottom,  for  "  number"  read  numbers. 

234,  8  of  Sonnet  V.  for  "  the"  read  tbee. 

235,  11  of  Sonnet  VI.  for  "  has"  read  bast. 


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